Page 94 of Kisses and Paperclips

“I don’t know what you were doing at my age,” I added, softer now. “But I’m raising a boy who needed someone to show up. And I do. Every single day. That feels like a prime to me.”

The corner of her mouth lifted, more smirk than smile.

“Spoken with wisdom.”

She said it like a compliment, but her tone was shady as hell. Sweetened just enough to make it sting.

Of course it sounded wise.

I’d had no choice but to become wise early. When your mother dies before you’ve even figured out who you are, and your father unravels like a thread you can’t stop pulling, you grow up fast.

You bury your wants. You rebuild yourself around what’s left. You learn that wisdom doesn’t come with time.

It comes from loss.

From sacrifice.

From survival.

“How’s Julien adjusting to his new role?” I asked, casually wanting to change the subject.

That wiped the smirk right off her face.

I didn’t know if it was the question, or the fact that it came out of my mouth. But I felt the shift. She’d been holding herself together like glass, and I’d just thrown a rock.

I didn’t react. Just watched her.

“Why are you here?” I asked, voice low and flat.

I didn’t see the point of dancing around it. There have been times before when I’ve taken off from work due to emergencies and other personal reasons, and Evelyn has never done a house call; she barely checks in with me at the office.

She blinked, tilted her head like a woman calculating risk.

“I don’t trust anyone,” she said. “Never have. Never will. Not unless they share my blood.”

Her tone sharpened, cold.

“And once someone breaks that trust, I don’t offer them a second chance. I won’t let anyone play in my face twice.”

I held her stare. She let the mask fall completely then—like it had always been too heavy.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

The air between us went still, like the whole room was holding its breath.

“Say it,” I said, finally. “Out loud, Evelyn. I don’t like guessing games.” Her eyes narrowed, mouth tightening into something bitter.

“Julien’s off limits.”

My expression didn’t shift. “Does he know you’re here saying that?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” Her voice dropped an octave. Sharp and laced with venom. “I have eyes everywhere. You should know that.”

She leaned in, just enough for her words to land like a slap.

“You think I didn’t see you throwing yourself at him? Half the office saw you leave with him. Like you’re not supposed to be a professional. Like you don’t know better.” She straightened slowly.

“I know what that was. You did it on purpose. You want to make him look weak. Like some fucking playboy, distracted and undeserving.” Her voice lowered again, barely above a whisper. “All because you think this job should be yours. That you’re owed something.” She took one step closer, her perfume too strong, her presence too loud.

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