“Which one?”
I glance at Alfie.
Can Ava come?
“Alfie’s.”
Jack watches me for a moment like he’s trying to say something without pushing too hard.
“Well,” he says softly, “for what it’s worth… I liked that he asked.”
I don’t answer straight away.
Instead I just walk between them, aware of how easily I seem to have slipped into this small space between father and son.
And how much that both comforts and scares me.
Monday morning feels unreal.
The newsroom hum is exactly the same as always. Phones ringing. Keyboards clattering. Someone arguing about a headline. And yet I feel like I’ve come back slightly… rearranged.
I’m smiling.
Which is apparently my first mistake.
Chloe looks up from her screen and narrows her eyes immediately.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That is anothing happened but something definitely happenedface.”
I try to look neutral. I fail.
“I need to talk to Marie-Louise,” I say instead.
Chloe gasps softly. “Oh my God. You shagged him.”
I freeze. How could she probably know this?
“I did not confirm that.”
“You didn’t deny it either. And it’s all over your face. I mean, not his you know… no cum incident but just the look you have.”
I pick up my notebook like it can shield me from interrogation.
“I can’t believe you just said c…u…m in the office. So, I’m going before you start asking follow-up questions.”
“Too late,” she calls after me. “I already have twelve.”
I ignore her and knock on Marie Louise’s door instead.
“Come in.”
Marie-Louise is behind her desk, glasses low on her nose, surrounded by the kind of organised chaos that means deadlinesare looming. She looks up with the expression of someone who has exactly three minutes and intends to use them wisely.
“Yes, Ava?”
