"W-Who is that lucky person, Eve? You have to bring him here to meet me…"
Evelyn hesitated.
Her heart raced, the weight of the truth pressing heavily against her chest. If she didn't say it now, Oliver might blurt out something even worse, something she couldn't cover with flimsy excuses.
She drew in a slow, steady breath, her lungs aching with the effort of keeping herself calm.
The words felt heavy on her tongue as she forced them out. "Aunty Martha… we need to talk. Alone."
Martha's eyes sharpened with quiet understanding. But it wasn't his reaction that Evelyn worried most about; it was Oliver's.
Her little boy frowned at her, a crease forming on his tiny brow. It was almost comical how serious he looked, as though he sensed she wanted him out of the room.
Evelyn's heart ached at the thought that he might protest. "Sweetheart," she said gently, meeting his curious gaze. "Can you wait for us in your playroom? Mommy needs to talk about something with Granny."
