“These past few days, I was on a business trip with President Powell. I forgot my hand cream and happened to find it in his car. I used it all by accident. This is a replacement. I hope you don’t mind.”
I didn’t reach for it right away.
Awkwardness flickered across her face. Instinctively, her eyes turned to him, seeking reassurance.
“Take it,” Diego said, voice calm but firm.
I accepted it without a word and placed it aside.
Our daughter sat quietly in the car seat, studying this new "auntie" with wide, curious eyes. Her gaze lit up at the candy in Courtney’s hand.
Just as Courtney began unwrapping it, I finally spoke.
“She just saw the dentist. No candy.”
“This is imported,” Courtney replied with a smile. “It’s not low quality. You don’t have to worry.”
“Imported or not, it’s still candy, isn’t it?”
Diego, focused on the road, suddenly frowned. “Kelly, she meant well.”
I fell silent, but our daughter, always thoughtful, waved her hand.
“I’ll listen to Mommy. I won’t eat it.”
Courtney withdrew her hand, a trace of awkwardness flickering in her eyes.
The car soon pulled up to an old residential area. She stepped out and apologized once more.
I simply gave a polite nod.