Christopher's voice is light, almost teasing, as he looks up at you from across the table. "I think my dad likes you."

You nearly choke on your drink. "What?"

Eddie, who had been in the kitchen, freezes mid-step, his grip tightening around the plate in his hand. His ears turn red, and he clears his throat, trying to act like he didn’t hear his son casually drop that bomb.

Christopher just shrugs, utterly unaware of the tension now crackling in the room. "You’re the only one he talks about when you’re not around. And he always smiles when he sees you.” He grins. “Even when he's in a bad mood."

You glance at Eddie, whose face is now buried in his hands. "Chris, why don't you go pick a movie?"

Christopher nods and scurries off, leaving the two of you in a heavy silence. You bite your lip, watching Eddie as he slowly lifts his head. His brown eyes meet yours, something unreadable in them.

"Kids say the darndest things, huh?" you joke weakly, trying to ease the tension.