I shake my head and reach for my phone. I pull up the email confirmation and slide it across the table.
“I talked to someone,” I say. “A gallery.”
She blinks.
Then she picks up the phone and scans the screen.
Her eyes widen.
For a moment, the real Talia is there. The one that lights up like someone turned her on from the inside.
“What,” she breathes. “Jake—”
“They’re interested in carrying your work,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my chest feels tight with anticipation. “They want to meet you next week.”
Her mouth opens slightly. Her gaze flicks up to mine.
“You did this?” she whispers.
“Of course,” I say like it’s nothing. “You’re talented. They should see it.”
Her eyes shine. She sets the phone down carefully like it might shatter.
“Jake,” she says again, softer. “Thank you.”
I wait for the squeal.
The jump out of her chair.
The frantic excitement.
The rapid-fire questions.
Instead, her smile wavers.
It fades just a little too quickly.
And my stomach drops.
She looks… overwhelmed.
But not in the good way.
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and swallows like she’s trying to keep herself together.
“That’s amazing,” she says, voice tight. “Really. Thank you.”
“You’re not excited?” I say before I can stop myself.
Her head jerks up.
“I am,” she insists, but the word doesn’t match her face.
I lean back slightly, studying her. “Tal.”
She exhales.
“I’m excited,” she repeats, like she’s trying to convince herself. “I just… I’m in a weird mood.”
