Elena's POV:
Milo didn’t need much convincing to keep playing with his toy cars, and soon enough I forgot the humiliation, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, building an elaborate racetrack out of his blocks cheered me on. Slowly, my hands stopped trembling. My heart found a steadier beat.
"You good."
"Thanks, Milo," I said with a smile.
The simple rhythm of play, the sound of Milo’s delighted squeals, the way he narrated every dramatic crash—it all helped unknot my chest.
Just when I began to think I might survive the day without combusting, I sensed movement behind me.
Caleb.
He walked over—slow, careful, like approaching a wild animal that might spook. His eyes met mine for a split second, a soft clash of heat and memory—
Then he looked away. Straight at Milo.
“Bud
