But he lets it go.
For now.
We unload the rest and settle things into place. While I’m tucking the oranges into a decorative bowl for “ambience,” Calder pauses, watching me carefully.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re smiling.”
“Am I not supposed to?”
He shakes his head once. “No. It’s just… It’s good to see.”
My breath catches.
My pulse stutters.
Something shifts in the air again.
He moves closer—not too close, just close enough to feel.
“Natalie,” he says quietly.
I look up.
He looks down.
And then?—
His phone rings.
The moment snaps like a twig.
Calder mutters something under his breath, steps back, and grabs his phone from the counter.
“It’s my sister,” he says, thumb hovering over the answer button.
My heart sinks.
His family.
Reality.
He takes the call, tone instantly different—concern, care, a low rumble of protective brother energy.
I busy myself with the oranges, pretending I’m not listening.
“Yeah,” he says. “We’re ready. As ready as we can be.”
Pause.
He exhales. “I know. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Another pause. Longer.
His jaw tightens. “No. Don’t—hey. Don’t put that on yourself.”
My chest aches a little.
