I had just set my teacup down when Tristan's voice cut across the sunroom.
"Mother, what are you doing here with Ellie?"
The sharp edge in his tone made me straighten my back in my seat. He stood at the doorway, tall and imposing. His expression was unreadable as his eyes flicked from me to his mother.
But Marie Donovan didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned back in her chair lazily, calm as ever, her smile warm and knowing.
"What do you think I'm doing here with Ellie," she replied lightly, motioning for him to join us. "Telling her that this house is as much hers as it is Sophia's. Nothing more and nothing less."
Heat crept into my cheeks at her words, and I tried to shrink into my seat. But Marie's gaze remained steady, almost mischievous. She wasn't done yet.
"Though," she added with a pointed glance at Tristan, "I can see why you'd be worried. You're too protective when it comes to Ellie."
I froze. My eyes darted to Tristan, whose jaw tightened ever so slightly.
"Protective?" His voice was cool, controlled. "I would be protective of any guest in this house."
Marie arched a brow, her smile deepening. "Is that so? Because I don't recall you standing guard in the hallways when Sophia's other friends were staying over a few days back."
My breath got caught, and I quickly looked down, pretending to stir my tea as though it was already perfectly blended. The teasing note in Marie's tone made the air around us both lighter and heavier all at once.
Tristan's silence stretched for a moment, his gaze lingering on me long before he finally stepped inside with his movements purposeful. He sat across from us, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud edged with restraint.
Marie, of course, was unfazed. She reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
"Ellie, don't mind him. My eldest son has always carried the world on his shoulders. He forgets that sometimes, not everything needs to be so guarded."
I dared a glance at Tristan then. His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable, but I thought I caught a flicker of something else. Something softer, before he managed to look away.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but felt charged, like a string pulled taut. Marie broke it with a laugh, rising gracefully.
"Well, I'll leave you both to your tea. I have a garden calling for me." She gave Tristan one last look, her voice lilting. "Don't be so serious, son. Ellie isn't here to cause trouble. You invited her to our house on your own initiative, remember? Treat as you usually treat Sophia."
Her smile lingered even after she left the room, as though she'd planted a seed neither of us could ignore.
The moment Marie's footsteps faded, Tristan leaned forward, his gaze locking with mine.
"You shouldn't let her words get to you," he said quietly.
"Whatever my mother thinks she sees, it's not what it looks like."
But the way his eyes lingered on me betrayed his own words.