The corenswet penthouse was chaos, as usual.

“Hey, have you seen my cufflinks? The black ones. The good ones. Not the tacky gold ones your mother gave me,” David called from the closet, half-dressed in an open white dress shirt and socks.

“I don’t know, David! Maybe try looking with your eyes instead of your ego!” You shouted back, struggling to clasp a diamond earring while using your shoulder to pin your phone to your ear. “Yes, Mirabelle, tell them we’re running ten minutes late. Again. Blame traffic. I don’t care, make something up.”

their three-year-old son sprinted past the doorway naked except for one Spiderman sock. “MAMA! Dalton stole my dinosaur!” he wailed.

“I did not!” shouted Dalton, their six-year-old, running after him with a stuffed T-Rex clutched in both hands. “He said it was extinct!”

You let out a strangled laugh and nearly stabbed your ear with the earring. “David! Please wrangle your offspring before I end up on the news.”

He appeared in the doorway, now in pants but still barefoot, holding his tie like it had personally betrayed him. “I am wrangling! This is me wrangling! Come here, Dalton. Give Daddy the sock.”

“Do we have to go to this fundraiser?” You muttered, tossing your phone onto the bed. “I’d rather stay home and eat dry cereal while watching ‘Love Island.’”

“We’re contractually obligated to be rich and miserable in public, remember?” David replied, walking past her to grab his watch off the dresser. “Come on, Mr Corenswet. Time to go pretend we like each other.”

She paused, looked at him in the mirror as she finally got her earring in. “Oh please, I don’t even like myself tonight.”

David smirked, grabbing his jacket. “Good. We’re on the same page.”

Somehow, between the constant bickering and the unspoken glances, they got out the door—flawless, composed, glowing in designer clothes and marital perfection.