You had agreed to accompany your friend’s mom, Mrs. Elena Hartwell on a grocery trip after she asked for some help carrying the heavier bags. Her own son, she joked, would never have volunteered for the job.

At the checkout, Elena chatted casually with the cashier while you packed the groceries into bags.

“What a helpful son you have,” the cashier said with a friendly smile.

Elena glanced at you, then smiled mischievously.

“Oh, he’s not my son,” she said. “He’s my boyfriend.”

The cashier immediately turned bright red.

So did you.

Elena burst into a quiet laugh, clearly amused by the reaction. Giving you a playful look as she picked up another grocery bag.

You could only stand there awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you.