Page 90 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

Three words. Just three.

But they detonated like a bomb.

The world slowed. Sound disappeared. Color drained.

Gravity tilted.

The words hit before I could even process them, cutting through me, leaving everything hollow and echoing inside.

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

The silence pressed in, painfully heavy.

Then Lucy’s voice came, soft and careful, like she was walking barefoot through broken glass. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

I made myself say it. “No.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed. “Or who…?”

Her voice trailed off.

Because she was smart. And she was my best friend.

But could she guess?

My voice was hoarse. “It was a one-night stand.”

Though not entirely a lie, the words still tasted like shame.

Because it could be Asher. Or Beckett. Or Garrett.

And if that made me reckless, or selfish, or something worse, well, I didn’t have the strength to argue it.

My stomach turned, but not from nausea this time. From panic.

“What the hell am I supposed to do, Lucy?”

My voice cracked on her name. It wasn’t just a question. It was a plea.

Lucy stood. Not slowly, carefully. As if she was approaching something fragile. Something that might shatter if she moved too fast.

She stood in front of me and waited until I looked up.

“You’re going to breathe,” she said. “And then you’re going to decide what you want. You’re going toreallythink this through.”

The walk back to the Medford Inn was quiet.

Not peaceful quiet.Heavyquiet. The kind that pressed in around you, dense with everything left unsaid.

I carried it with me all the way to the suite.

“Can I do anything for you?” Lucy asked as we stepped inside.

I shook my head.

“No. I just…” I exhaled, slow and shaky. “I think I need a minute. Or an hour. Or something.”

Her eyes softened, but she didn’t argue.

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