Dodia POV
I blinked immediately. “There what is?”
“That face.” She pointed vaguely toward me. “The one you make whenever you are thinking too loudly.”
“I do not think loudly.”
“You absolutely do.”
I rolled my eyes slightly.
She smiled into her tea with quiet satisfaction like she had already won the argument before it began.
Then somehow the conversation shifted toward family.
Children.
Life.
Her eyes settled on me carefully.
“And your twins?”
Something inside me tightened immediately.
“They’re fine.”
“Hm.”
That sound.
That deeply reflective, terrifyingly observant “hm” she always made whenever she knew there was more beneath the surface.
I avoided eye contact by reaching for my cup.
“And you?” she asked quietly.
“I’m fine too.”
Another hum.
Even more introspective this time.
Madam Eloise leaned back slowly in her chair, studying me in that unnerving way she always did.
“You know,” she said eventually, “women like you are very interesting.”
I blinked once. “That sounds threatening.”
“It should.”
I laughed softly despite myself.
She continued anyway.
“You carry responsibility beautifully. Gracefully even.” Her gaze sharpened slightly. “But you also use
Chest acne
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responsibility to avoid vulnerability.”
I would forever love her for that.
After leaving work later that evening, I stopped at a small bakery near the house.
Milk cake for Ava.
Cinnamon rolls for Eli.
Peace offerings.
Because apparently I had decided to emotionally interrogate my children tonight and bribery felt appropriate.
As I drove home, my stomach stayed tense the entire way.
And honestly?
That irritated me.
Why was I nervous?
What exactly was I afraid of hearing?
That they liked Dave?
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Or worse…
That they didn’t?

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