Page 91 of Painting Celia

“Ask her.” Kelsey shook her head and rechecked her phone.

•••

Celia watched them debating on the couch. The urge to stay behind the tree, to put off the confrontation, lost out to learning what she’d be walking into. Was León angry she had run? He was turned away from the window, but his back looked tense.

As they talked, Kelsey kept checking her phone. They must have been trying to reach her. Obviously.

The wind sighed again, needling through the thin dress. She wasn’t ready, but the cold would win. There was nothing left to do but climb up to the house and the consequences and the look on León’s face when she said she wanted something else, something more.

She turned her phone back on with chilled fingers, delayed notifications trilling one after the other. So many texts and missed calls. The top one was from Kelsey, saying she just wanted to know if she was safe.

Oh, Kelsey. She hadn’t intended for anyone to worry. She hadn’t intended any of this. She at least had to let them know she was okay.

•••

“It’s her! She’s safe.”

León sighed hoarsely, dropping his face into his hands. ¡Ay bendito!

The giddy relief lasted only moments.

Safe all this time and making him go through that! How dare she over such a small thing?

Kelsey flinched as he jumped up to pace, fury radiating.

“How could she make us worry like that? ¿Y para qué?” His outrage erupted. “¿Cuál es su razón? Esa aniñada—”

“Hey!” Kelsey said, “León, she’s okay. This is how she reacts, and you might have to get used to it if you’re here for the long haul. She may never be different, not even with you teaching her better ways.”

He stared at her. Blunt.

“It’s childish! Running out, really?”

She twisted her mouth. “Oh please, you did the same thing to her.”

“What?”

“That one time, you remember, you disappeared, and she waited around all day?”

He froze. Shit.

“Yeah, okay, but this isn’t the same. She wasn’t worried that I was hurt.”

Kelsey stood. “No, she just thought she wasn’t important to you. She hadn’t even been rude beforehand.”

“I wasn’t…that rude.” It sounded weak even to himself.

She shook her head at him. “You’re not going to win this one, León.”

He stared, stuck.

“I highly suggest you work through this, fast,” she said, blue eyes like ice. “Be cool when she gets here. You’ll get nowhere if you’re mad. She’ll shut right down again.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Hell. I’ll try, but…is she coming back? Did she say?”

“She didn’t. But I think she will. She communicated—she’s coming out of hiding.”

“Will you let Andrew and Trevor know?”