She doesn’t say anything right away. Just keeps tracing the scar beneath the words, like she’s trying to read the story written under my skin.
“Elle,” I say gently, my voice quieter now. “Let’s talk about your sister.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’ll talk about my sister… if you talk about this tattoo.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I say. “You go first.”
But before she can speak, the phone rings, loud and sharp in the quiet room.
We both glance toward it. She smiles shyly. “Are you going to get that?”
I sigh, reluctantly pulling back. “I should. It might be Mom.”
She nods, though I can tell neither of us really wants to break the moment. “Go on, I’m not going anywhere.”
"Hi, Mom," I say. "Everything okay?"
"Hi, sweetheart," she says warmly. "I'm calling to invite you over for dinner."
"I already have dinner plans," I say, winking at Elle. "Thanks anyway."
"Okay, son. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then."
After I end the call, I turn to Elle. "When can I introduce you to my folks?"
Her eyes widen slightly. "You want me to meet your parents?"
I nod, smiling. "Of course I do."
“I can’t wait to meet Mr. and Mrs. Jackson,” she says brightly.
I chuckle. "Jackson?"
She tilts her head. "Isn't that your last name?"
I shake my head. "No, ma'am."
"But your business?" She replies. "It's Jackson & Company, right?"
"It is," I say, "but Jackson's my first name."
Her smile falters. "Wait—your name isn’t Cal?"
"My full name's Jackson Callahan."
She goes still. "Callahan?" she echoes, her smile gone. Her whole posture shifts—tense now.
"What is it?" I ask, my brows pulling together. "What’s wrong?"
She’s staring at me like I just ripped off a mask and revealed someone she doesn’t recognize underneath. Her whole body goes still, then a second later, she bolts off the couch—fast, like I’ve become something dangerous. Like she just realized she’s sitting beside a rattle snake.
She paces back and forth, her arms crossed tight across her chest, her breath coming hard. I’ve seen panic before. I’ve seen people try to hold it together when their world cracks open. And that’s what this looks like. Like her world is splitting at the seams.
I stay rooted to the spot, watching her, unsure if I should speak or give her space. My mouth opens, then closes.
I don’t know what just happened.
One second she was laughing, teasing me.
