The week after my mother leaves is the quietest week we have had since London.
No Helena confrontations. No consortium complications. No Derek updates or Vivienne echoes or Tasha adjacencies. Just the apartment and the work and the evenings and each other, which turns out to be more than enough, which turns out to be everything.
Monday through Wednesday I am deep inside the Meridian board presentation, Priya and Saoirse and I working with the focused momentum of a team that has found its rhythm, and I come home each evening to Rhys already there, something on the stove, the apartment warm and lit and smelling like a home that is actually lived in.
Thursday he comes to Harlow for lunch.
Not because we planned it. He texts at noon saying he is nearby and I meet him in the lobby
