“Aren’t you supposed to be at home right now? ” She steps fully inside, nudging the door shut behind her with her foot. “The store’s closed.”
I sink back onto the stool, my fingers tightening loosely around my pencil. “Yeah, I just…” I trail off, because I don’t even know how to finish that sentence without saying too much.
Because I don’t want to go home. Because I don’t want to sit there and think about the fact that Ty still hasn’t reached out. That I’m supposed to see him tomorrow and I have no idea what I’m going to say.
That somewhere along the way, this twisted thread of guilt has worked itself under my skin and refuses to let go.
Gran hums, like she hears everything I’m not saying anyway,and sets the casserole down on the counter before wandering over to the workbench.
“Well,” she says lightly, leaning her hip against it, “let’s see what’s keeping you here, then.”
Her gaze drops to the sketch. “Oh, Vivian. That’s beautiful.”
“It is something.” I glance down at it, suddenly seeing every flaw all over again. “I don’t know if it’sthesomething yet.”
She tilts her head, studying it. “This is the trophy for the girls, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I lean forward, tapping the edge of the page with the pencil. “It’s the design we’ve been working on together. I wanted to bring something in tomorrow for the last session. Even if it’s just an idea.”
“Just an idea,” she repeats, like she already knows there’s more.
“I just…” I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. “I want it to feel like more. I keep thinking there should be a diamond element, the girls really want that, but they can’t afford it. So, I’m trying to figure out how to make it look like one without actually being one.”
Gran’s smile curves, slow and knowing. “Diamonds,” she says, almost to herself. “Strong. Formed under pressure. Hard to break. They catch the light because of everything they’ve been through.”
I let out a quiet breath. “Yeah. All of those things.”
She reaches out, smoothing a hand gently over my hair, the gesture so familiar it makes something in my chest tighten.
“You’re my diamond, you know,” she says.
I manage an embarrassed laugh. “You say that a lot.”
“I do.” She doesn’t apologize for it. “And I’ll keep saying it. Especially now, when I’m getting a little sentimental about moving on to my next chapter.”
“You’re not allowed to say that like it’s some dramatic exit line.”
She smiles, undeterred. “I was thinking the other day,” shecontinues, tapping her fingers lightly against the edge of the bench, “about the store.”
My attention sharpens. “What about it?”
“Sullivan’s Fine Jewelry.” She says it slowly, like she’s trying it on. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time for something different.”
Something in me sparks.
“I’ve actually…” I sit up straighter, reaching for the stack of papers off to the side. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. Maybe—modernizing it a little. Keeping the heart of it, but making it feel like it’s moving forward.”
Her brows lift. “Have you now?”
I flip through the pages, a little self-conscious now that she’s watching. “It’s nothing finalized. Just ideas.”
“Yes, well,” she says, amused, “I found a piece of paper in the living room the other day with a whole list of them scribbled out.”
I pause, heat rising to my cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“And miss all the fun?” She leans in closer, peering down as I spread the page out between us. “Let’s see…Sullivan’s Jewelry Studio. Sullivan & Co. Oh—I like this one. Sullivan and Stone.”
I shrug, trying for casual and probably missing it. “I was just playing around. Seeing what felt right.”
