21
CALLUM
The rumors hit the town like a Nor’easter.
They swirl through the streets, through the Christmas market stalls, through the goddamn diner that Dean and I stop at every morning to grab a bite to eat to break up the monotony of hotel food.
It seeps in through the walls of our hotel room through the maids that come in and refresh our toiletries, through the muted laughter from the concierge downstairs, through every passing glance that lingers a little too long on us when people realize who we are as we pass them on the streets.
“Saw her with that older guy…Chief Richard’s daughter, right? They were definitely getting cozy at the cafe over off of Marlow Street. Looked like a couple of teenagers on a first date.”
“Heard she’s cycling through Richard’s whole crew.”
“Poor Richard. Imagine finding out your daughter’s shacking up with your best friends.”
The gossip mill churns, all started by Tom Harlan’s big fat mouth and his desperate need to stay relevant, to make himself feel important by twisting a tender situation into a story worth gossiping about.
It disgusts me as much as it infuriates me.
Less than a week ago, he’d seen Noelle and Dean at that cafe downtown having a heart-to-heart together and now, the whole town’s feeding on the rumors being spread, each one more outlandish than the last.
It’s eating her alive.
I can see it every time we stop by the house for our shifts. Every time she opens the door and greets us with a polite smile that doesn’t reach her hazel eyes.
We’d just gotten her back to joking with us, teasing Dean and rolling her eyes when Grant and I bickered over coffee and her baked goods.
Now, she barely looks any of us in the eye for more than a few seconds.
It’s killing me to see her shrinking again.
The weight of the town’s judgment has settled on her like a second skin, and I hate how powerless it makes me feel being able to do nothing about it.
It’s cruel and unfair that the town she’s grown up in all her life has turned on her like this.
This town eats its own when it’s bored. And right now, they’ve decided Noelle’s the main course.
Dean keeps saying it’ll blow over, that people will find something new to talk about by Christmas.
And maybe he’s right, but the damage is already done.
I see it in the way Richard’s face hardens when he hears her name mentioned whenever we head to the police precinct to get an update on the shop’s case, in the way he snaps at all three of us now like we’ve tainted her reputation personally.
And the worst part? The people spreading the rumors don’t even realize the truth: that this isn’t some scandalously lust-filled affair going on.
It’s us taking care of the woman who’s been through hell and back.
It’s us taking responsibility like we should’ve done years ago. It’s the three of us giving in to what we’ve always wanted:her.
I don’t know how much longer she can take it.
Honestly, I don’t know how much longerIcan stand by and watch it happen.
Something’s got to give before the entire house of cards collapses out from under all of us.
Everything comes to a head the week of Christmas.
The day starts quiet enough with the faint hum of the heater in the background and the soft patter of heavy snowfall coming down outside the hotel windows.
