“For dessert?”
“Probably.”
“For Mama too?”
“Definitely.”
He nods. “Good. She likes chocolate.”
“I know.”
Amelia’s brows lift. “You know?”
“I pay attention.”
That shuts her up.
Good.
Rare victory.
August looks between us. “Are you fake boyfriend still?”
The air changes.
Not sharp.
Tender.
Amelia’s hand stills on the counter.
I crouch in front of him because this ain’t a question for men to answer from above.
“No.”
His face falls for one half second.
I keep going.
“Not fake.”
His eyes widen. “Real boyfriend?”
I look up at Amelia.
This answer ain’t mine alone.
Her face softens, but she lets me have it.
“If your mama says so.”
August turns to her.
She smiles. Nervous. Brave. Mine to admire, not own.
“Real,” she says.
August thinks about that.