Willa didn't reply.
He leaned in a fraction closer, his shoulder pressing against hers, his hair brushing softly against her ear.
It tickled. She tilted her head to dodge him, but he just followed her movement, sticking to her like glue.
She put a hand against his face and shoved him away.
"Sit up straight. Can you stop acting like a clingy puppy? If you keep this up, I'm going home."
Randal begrudgingly put a few inches of space between them, though his eyes remained glued to her, stealing quick glances every few seconds.
The car pulled up to a modest, private dining spot.
The restaurant had clearly been around for a while. The decor was dated, and the private room was tiny, holding just a small square table and two chairs.
He had pre-ordered the entire meal, selecting all her old favorites: BBQ ribs, garlic butter shrimp, a rich crab dip, and a bowl of hot soup.
Randal placed a rib onto her plate. "I wasn't sure if you still liked this stuff. It took me forever to find this place. If you hate it, we can go somewhere else."
Willa kept her head down and started eating.
In truth, the food was spectacular, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
"It's alright. Edible, I suppose."
To Randal's ears, that lukewarm review translated to a glowing endorsement.
His eyes lit up, his mouth curving into an unstoppable grin. Eagerly, he transferred another piece of meat to her plate, practically vibrating with joy. "Then eat up. If you like it, we can come back next time."
Halfway through the meal, Randal hesitated before finally speaking up. "Willa, I'm sorry. The DNA test... my parents did it behind my back."
Willa's silverware froze mid-air. Her chest seized, her heart hammering an erratic rhythm.
Julian's promises were impossible to verify, and she still had no idea what the test results actually said. She forced herself to act entirely unfazed, smoothly pivoting the conversation.
"The shrimp here is actually pretty good."



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