The thought of some stranger standing in my doorway looking around our home to search for proof that I’ve failed is every nightmare I’ve ever had made real.
I can already see it: the sterile questions, the cautious tones, the looks that are exchanged while inspecting my home and measuring it for what it’s worth.
“Mama?”
I turn automatically, my heart already softening at the sound. Eli’s peeking around from behind Dean’s leg, his wide hazel eyesdarting nervously between me and the space where Evelyn had stood moments ago.
His small hand clutches the fabric of Dean’s jeans, the picture of innocence and confusion.
“Mama, why was she yelling at you?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and force a steady breath, pushing down the panic clawing at my chest. Eli doesn’t need to see that. He doesn’t need to see how rattled I am.
“Hey,” I murmur, crouching down until I’m at his eye level. I hold out my arms, and he steps into them without hesitation, warm and solid and real against me.
I hug him tight, pressing my cheek against his curls, breathing him in like I can center myself through his scent alone. “She’s just…having a bad day, that’s all. No need for you to worry about it, okay?”
He nods, his head still resting against my shoulder. “She was being mean…”
“I’m okay, I promise.”
He tilts his head up then, eyes squinting a little like he’s testing whether he believes me or not. “Youpromisepromise?”
I smile. “I promise promise.”
He studies me for another second before accepting that answer with a solemn nod.
I kiss his temple and stand up again, hoping it’s enough to keep him from asking anything more.
“We should probably go,” Grant suggests.
I hold back another sigh and simply nod. “Good idea.”
Callum’s surprised to see us when we step through the hotel doors.
The warm air washes over us like a soft wave after the bitter wind chill outside.
He’s just coming out of the other room, still wearing the same flannel from earlier with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a mug of coffee in one hand.
“That was quick.” His gaze flickers from Grant and Dean, to me, lingering just a moment too long. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
He’s studying me,assessing, in the way Callum always does, with that quiet, analytical silence that makes it impossible to hide anything from him.
His eyes slide down to Eli who’s clinging to my hand, his little cheeks pink from the cold, then back up to my face. I can tell he knows something’s off.
“We ran into someone, uh…combative,” is Dean’s grand explanation.
“Combative?” Callum echoes, one brow arching.
Dean doesn’t answer right away, glancing at me for permission, maybe, or for backup.
But I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze.
My throat feels tight, raw from too many words bitten back today and the looming threat that I might soon be in the midst of a legal battle.
I focus on unbuttoning Eli’s coat instead, pretending not to notice the way Callum’s attention is focused back on me again.
His silence is louder than any question he could ever ask.
