I caught myself smiling.
Maybe the engagement was fast.
Absurdly fast.
But the way they looked at each other made it harder to dismiss.
Patrick was quieter.
I assumed he was struggling with the same thing I was.
Then Aaron shifted in his chair.
“Do you mind if I take this off? It’s warm.”
“Of course.”
He stood and removed his jacket.
Patrick froze.
His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
I noticed immediately.
“Patrick?”
He didn’t answer.
He was staring at Aaron’s upper arm.
I followed his gaze.
There was a tattoo there.
A portrait of a woman.
Dark hair.
Bright eyes.
A beautiful smile.
It was detailed enough that it was obviously based on a photograph.
Patrick put his fork down.
His face had lost all color.
Alice noticed too.
“Dad?”
Patrick continued staring.
Then he asked Aaron a question that changed the entire evening.
“Who is that woman?”
Aaron glanced at his tattoo.
His expression softened.
“My mother.”
Patrick swallowed.
“What was her name?”
Aaron frowned slightly.
“Lana.”
Patrick closed his eyes.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Everyone did.
I looked at him.
“How do you know her?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Alice looked between us.
Aaron sat very still.
Patrick rubbed his fingers together beneath the table, something he always did when nervous.
“We knew each other when we were young.”
“How well?”
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me more than his answer would.
“Patrick.”
“We dated.”
“For how long?”
“A couple of years.”
My stomach tightened.
Two years wasn’t a forgotten summer romance.
“How serious?”
Patrick looked at me.
