The woman who had recognized her was scrolling through her phone now. “Oh, you have to read her review of that steakhouse… What was it called? The one where she compared the chef to a pyromaniac with a vendetta against cows?”
Laughter rippled through the small crowd. Kirk saw Percy looking up at his mother with confusion, clearly sensing her discomfort without understanding why.
“Actually,” Isla said, her voice strained but controlled, “we were just about to move on. Percy wanted to see the honey stall next.”
“But Mom,” Percy began, “I didn’t try…”
“Now, Percy,” she said firmly, taking his hand.
Kirk found his voice at last. “Isla,” he said quietly. “You didn’t mention you were a food critic.”
Their eyes met across the stall. Something complicated flickered over her face—regret, perhaps, or apology. But there was something else, too. A closing-off. A retreat behind professional walls.
“It didn’t come up,” she said.
Such a careful answer. Technically true, maybe. But it still felt like something important had been kept from him.
His bear gave a low, unhappy growl.She didn’t trust us with the truth.
Kirk held her gaze. “It feels like something that should have come up. I didn’t realize your work meant being so hard on things people care about.”
“Mom reviews food,” Percy offered helpfully, looking between them with growing confusion. “She’s super good at it. People read her stuff all the time.”
“I’m sure they do,” Kirk said, keeping his voice even for the boy’s sake.
The market carried on around them, but the warmth had gone out of the day. Kirk could feel Leo watching him carefully, picking up the shift in mood. The crowd’s attention was already beginning to drift elsewhere, but the damage had been done.
Restaurant destroyer.
The phrase lodged in Kirk’s mind, impossible to shake.
“We should go,” Isla said softly. “It was nice seeing you both.”
She tugged gently on Percy’s hand, but the boy resisted. “Can’t I have my chili sample first? Kirk made it special for me.”
Kirk’s heart tightened at the disappointment in Percy’s voice. None of this was the boy’s fault. He quickly prepared a small cup of the mildest blend.
“Here you go, buddy,” he said, handing it over. “Just a little taste at first, all right?”
Percy accepted it solemnly. “Thank you.”
“Percy,” Isla said, her voice strained, “we need to go now.”
The boy looked between them once more, clearly aware that something had gone wrong but too young to understand what. With obvious reluctance, he moved back to his mother’s side.
“Bye, Kirk,” he said, his small face serious. “Bye, Leo.”
“Goodbye, Percy,” Kirk replied, wishing he knew what to say—how to explain the knot now sitting hard and cold in his chest.
Isla met his eyes one last time, something like regret flickering across her face. Then she turned and led Percy away, their figures swallowed up by the crowd.
Leo moved closer and clasped a hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Everything all right?”
Kirk barely heard him. He stared at the space where Isla and Percy had stood only moments before, his mind replaying every conversation, every shared meal, every intimate look.
And for the first time, he wondered whether it had been as real for her as it had been for him.
Chapter Nineteen – Isla
