The moment Abigail saw Jerry standing there, her entire body tensed up like a wire stretched too tight. She hadn't heard the door open. She hadn't expected him to return this early. His presence—sudden, silent, and intense—made her heart skip a beat. And when his eyes locked on hers, sharp with curiosity, and his voice calmly asked, "Who was that that was calling?" it felt like the floor beneath her feet shifted.
She hadn't prepared for this.
She had built up the courage to go alone. To handle the meeting with Jerry's father by herself—not out of secrecy, but because she wanted to experience it firsthand, without influence, without pressure, without Jerry trying to shield her or interfere. She had questions, emotions, and instincts that told her she needed to see what kind of man Jerry's father truly was. And more importantly, she needed to understand for herself why Jerry never once spoke of him.
But now?
