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I should be here right now. Not at this desk, not answering emails, not pouring energy into someone else’s empire. No, right now I should be basking in the golden embrace of the Saint Tropez sun, my daughter’s laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

We’d be staying in our favorite villa—the one with the kind of natural light that makes every morning feel like a soft, warm hug. Dru would be twirling in the living room, babbling in a mix of English and the French phrases she’s picked up over the years. We’d have a slow morning, sipping fresh juice on the terrace before heading into town for a little shopping—taking full advantage of those foreign tax breaks, because why not? A luxury purchase always hits different when you know you’re getting money back.

My man? He’d be on the patio, sunglasses low on his nose, watching the waves roll in with a glass of champagne in hand—one waiting for me, of course. He knows me well. Knows that I like to take my time, to soak it all in, to appreciate this life we’ve built.

And tonight? Tonight, we’re with friends—our March-in-Saint-Tropez tradition. The air is laced with the scent of garlic, fresh herbs, and bubbling cheese as naan pizzas come fresh off hot stones. It’s the kind of meal that lingers, not just on your palate but in your memory. Their kids run around with Dru, exchanging bits of language, pieces of culture—growing in ways only travel and community can provide.

This is life. Soft. Lush. Built on our own terms.

… And then the email notification dings.

Sigh.

Okay, back to work I go.

Xoxo,
Drea