Gregory’s POV
Emma’s question caught me off guard. “So, tell me about your father,” she asked softly, her eyes searching mine.
A sudden, tight feeling formed in my throat, and I coughed, looking anywhere but at her.
The walls, the floor, even the window—anything to avoid her gaze. My father wasn’t something I talked about often, and definitely not now.
The silence stretched between us, and I could feel her watching me, waiting. But how was I supposed to answer that? Where would I even begin?
Emma shifted, her voice gentle, understanding. “I mean… if it’s uncomfortable to talk about, you don’t have to. I don’t know much about him, but it’s okay.”
I exhaled, grateful for her tact.
Before I could respond, she smiled and changed the subject, her tone light. “You know what? I’m hungry.”
