“Debatable,” I say calmly.
He shakes his head, still smiling, and takes a long pull of coffee. His shoulders drop another notch, tension bleeding off him.
The eggs hit the pan with a hiss. I stir, scraping the bottom, letting the motion steady my thoughts.
“How are you?” I ask, keeping my voice casual.
He doesn’t answer right away. Stares into his mug like it might tell him something useful.
“I’m okay,” he says finally. Then, quieter. “They’re still in the shower.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a pause. I add, “There’s a very real chance they’re hooking up again.”
Jude snorts. “You sound weirdly calm about that.”
I flip the eggs, watching them fold into themselves. “How do you feel about it?”
That gets his attention. He leans back against the counter, mug cradled in both hands like an anchor.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Everything about this has turned me inside out.”
I nod once. “Same.”
“This is different from Claire,” he says.
I look at him. “Yeah.”
“With Claire, it was…” He searches for the word, jaw tightening. “Contained. There were lines. Rules. This…” He gestures vaguely. “This feels bigger. Messier.”
“And deeper,” I say.
He meets my gaze. “Yeah.”
I turn the heat down under the pan, breathing out slowly. “You noticed how Dorian takes care of her.”
Jude’s mouth quirks. “Kind of impossible not to.”
“He doesn’t just want her,” I say. “He sees her. He’s clearly still so in love with her.”
Jude studies me for a second. “That scare you?”
I think about it. About the way Dorian watches her like she’s something precious and breakable and powerful all at once. About how he stayed. How he didn’t flinch when it got complicated, and it did get complicated very, very fast.
“No,” I say honestly. “It reassures me.”
Jude exhales like he’s been holding that in. “Good.”
I plate the eggs, add toast, and set everything on the table. The simple act of feeding people feels important right now.
“We need to have an honest conversation,” I say. “All of us. About what this is.”
He nods immediately, then winces. “Maybe after the farmer’s market?”
I snort. “Fair.”
He perks up. “Actually, I was thinking. We’ve got that leftover cedar from the Hawthorne job.”
