Page 23 of Mountain Daddy
We are so unbelievably screwed.
SEVEN
CELIA
I don’t breathe for a full three seconds.
Elsie’s tiny, proud declaration hangs in the air like a Christmas bell that refuses to stop ringing.
My face goes hot enough to melt the snow under our feet.
Parents turn. Neighbors stare. Someone coughs. Someone else whispers.
And Wells… Oh God. Wells looks like a reindeer caught in headlights.
He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t laugh it off. Doesn’t even attempt to diffuse the moment. His jaw locks tight, shoulders stiff, eyes wide in horror.
Henry Dahl’s eyebrows shoot nearly to his fake wig line under the Santa hat.
“Well now,” he wheezes. “That’s… something.”
“Elsie,” I whisper, stepping forward. “Sweetie, that’s not?—”
Wells grabs her hand, voice tight. “We need to go.”
The words punch me straight in the chest.
We. Need. To go.
NotHey, this is a misunderstanding.
NotLet’s talk about this.
He doesn’t even spare me a glance.
I swallow hard as he pulls Elsie away from the booth, murmuring something to her I can’t hear, his movements quick and strained.
A couple of parents glance at me. One of the moms from school raises her brows, concerned. The principal from school gives me a sharp, questioning look across the crowd. I see judgment there.
And pity.
My stomach drops.
This was a mistake. All of it.
Wells glances back at me once, quickly, his expression tight with fear or embarrassment or… regret.
It hurts more than I expect.
Too much.
I wrap my arms around myself and turn away, blinking hard as snowflakes cling to my eyelashes.
I can’t do this. Not in front of everyone. Not when it’s clear he doesn’t want to be seen with me.
I slip out of the crowd and start down a side street, boots crunching the fresh snow. The air is sharp and cold, cutting right through me, but not as much as the ache expanding inside my chest.
I just need a minute. I need somewhere to breathe.
