Despite myself, I laugh.
Because he’s right.
I’m in deep.
And I don’t want out.
Chapter 14
Emma
It’s difficult to wipethe smile off my face. I keep trying to look normal, but apparently I’m failing spectacularly.
“I love you and I’m very happy for you,” Christina says as we demolish our sandwiches in the back room, “but you need to tone that lovey-dovey smirk down. You’re making me jealous. I need some action of my own.” She waves her crisps like a warning flag. “I think it’s time to escalate my Bambi campaign.”
I choke on my water. “Please don’t. He already hides behind the begonias when he sees you coming.”
“I’ll wear him down,” she says confidently. “Wait and see.”
The bell rings and she heads out to help two women fussing over potted lavender. I glance at the clock, still smiling like an idiot. Maybe fresh air will calm me down.
“Shall I grab some éclairs from Cherry Pie?” I ask, leaning through the doorway. “Give your retinas a break from my face.”
“Yes please,” she calls back. “Get the big caramel one. The indecently gooey one.”
I grab coins from the tip jar and step into the crisp afternoon. The sky is a bright, summer blue. Even the pavement seems to have forgiven the usual Lake District rain. The walk up the hill is short, and the thought of seeing Alex’s name pop up on my phone later sends my stomach into soft, ridiculous flips.Or maybe he will pop over for a little repeat of last night?
The queue at the bakery spills onto the pavement. I join the end behind a couple in hiking gear, probably tourists. I’m just fishing my phone out to text Alex when a sharp snippet of conversation snaps my attention forward.
“Yes, I heard the rumours about Alex,” a woman two places ahead says, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry.
My whole body goes still.
“I mean, honestly, why’s he dating her?” she continues. “She’s so not his type. Do you remember his last girlfriend? The one from Kendal? Stunning.”
Her friend laughs, delighted. Something cold slides down my spine.
I duck slightly behind the tourists, pulse thudding in my ears.
“Veronica said she saw them at that new Arabic place,” the first woman goes on. “Apparently she ordered a whole table’s worth of food.”
Her friend snorts. “Well, she doesn’t need any extra, does she?”
They dissolve into giggles. A heat crawls across my chest and up my throat. I tug the hem of my top down, irrationally convinced they can see every inch of me they’re mocking.
“Honestly,” the woman says, lowering her voice, “either he’s on some sort of dare or he hit his head on a crag. She’s just… not right for him.”
The words hit like a clean punch to the ribs. My heart scrambles to hang on to the memory of last night. The way he looked at me. The softness in his voice. The way he made me feel chosen, for once.
But my mother’s voice slides in behind the women’s like it’s been waiting its moment.
No man wants to settle down with someone of your size. Don’t build illusions you can’t live in.
My stomach twists sharply. The tiny, brave part of me Alex keeps waking tries to speak up, but the doubt swallowing its edges is louder today. I can’t stand there a second longer.
I slip out of the queue and head back down the hill. The sunny street feels too bright, too exposed, like everyone can see the sudden crack running through me.
Christina looks up the moment I step inside the shop. Her expression shifts from curious to alarmed in half a second.
