“And when you’re ready—bring her home. I want to meet the girl who makes my son smile in his sleep.”
I paused mid-bite.
“I smiled in my sleep?”
“Oh, honey,” she said, beaming. “Like a Disney prince.”
Dad snorted into his coffee. I leaned back, the laughter fading into contemplation.
Maybe it was time. Maybe dinner with my family could be the beginning of something real, something built on honesty.
But first…I needed to tell her the truth.
Elizabeth
The café buzzed with life.
Warm sunlight streamed through the glass windows, casting golden streaks across the floor, mingling with the scattered remnants of half-finished coffees and crumpled napkins. The air was thick with the inviting aroma of roasted beans and vanilla syrup—something soothing, something that felt almost normal.
Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t quite fit in here.
But Lillian had practically issued a threat of bodily harm if I didn’t make an appearance. And Mary? Well,she would have tracked my phone and dragged me here herself if necessary.
So here I was, sporting a hoodie, sunglasses, and a paper cup that I’d been sipping on for what felt like an eternity.
Across the table, Lillian had her chin resting on her fist, her eyes sparkling with excitement as if she were watching a live rom-com unfold. Mary was indulging in an iced latte topped with so much whipped cream it could probably take down a small army.
“And then he told me about his first bike,” I murmured, glancing around as if the whole world might be eavesdropping. “And how he nearly met his end trying to impress a girl.”
“Oh my God,” Lillian gasped. “That’s ridiculously cute! I might just cry.”
“Boys are total idiots,” Mary chimed in, a teasing smile on her lips. “Idiots with charm. It’s a dangerous combo.”
A small smile crept onto my face, despite myself.
“He made me laugh,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lillian sat up straight, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“You laughed?”
Mary nearly dropped her drink in surprise.
“Out loud?”
“Yeah,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “It seems I’m not entirely dead inside after all.”
Mary leaned in closer.
“So? What’s the verdict? Is Noah a serious contender or just a pretty face with some emotional depth?”
I hesitated for a moment. That’s when the realization washed over me. I wanted to share everything.
I longed to spill every detail—how his eyes sparkled in the moonlight, how he truly listened, how he reminded me I was more than just the legacy I had been burdened with.
But instead, I found myself saying,
“It doesn’t matter.”
