She saw it—how his jaw tightened just slightly, how his gaze dropped like the question had weight he hadn’t prepared for. The air between them thickened again, but this time with something quieter. More vulnerable.
He cleared his throat, sat back a little. “It was just... someone I loved had epilepsy. I wanted to make them better.”
His voice was casual, but Isla knew better. There was something in the way he didn’t meet her eyes. Something behind those words that felt too rehearsed.
She leaned in slightly, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “That’s the version you give at galas, isn’t it?”
Nathan huffed a soft laugh through his nose, caught again. “Maybe.”
She didn’t say anything else. Just waited, calm, inviting.
It was the waiting that got to him.
He looked at her, really looked th
