Ana's POV
Throughout our meal, Yolanda's eyes stayed fixed on me, making my skin prickle with awareness.
The scrutiny became unbearable. "Mrs. Welch, there's something on your mind, isn't there?"
She gave a subtle nod.
I gestured for her to speak freely.
Her question hit like a freight train. "Ana, marriage—have you given it any thought?"
Coffee shot up my throat, sending me into a violent coughing fit.
Yolanda's hand found my back, rubbing in soothing circles as she pressed a water glass into my trembling fingers. "Easy now, breathe through it."
The coughing finally subsided, leaving my face blazing red and my chest burning.
Her concern wrapped around me like a warm blanket. "Slow down, sweetheart. A bad choking spell could trigger bronchitis."
She flagged down our server, requesting warm water before placing the glass gently in my hands.
The tenderness in her voice caught me off guard.
These were the words of a mother—something I'd never experienced firsthand.
