Jack's POV
"Is there anything you want to talk to me about, Jack?" Madeline asked as she drove, her fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel.
"About what?" I asked back, trying to sound nonchalant even though I already had a feeling where this was heading.
She laughed softly, a sound that filled the quiet car. "Come on, you know what I mean. Your trip to Paris."
I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in my seat, resting my head against the headrest. "So, my mom told you about it," I said, more a statement than a question.
Madeline didn't reply right away, but her silence said enough. She was giving me space to talk, to spill what I hadn't even admitted to myself yet. And maybe because it was her—someone who always made things seem a little less heavy—I found myself opening up.
