Page 66 of Mountain Bean Dream
My chest tightened painfully, my vision blurring at the edges as I forced the flute back to my lips. The notes came out jagged and all wrong; my fingers were stiff and uncooperative. Each sound was like dragging my bow against a broken string.
Smile. Finish the song. Complete the set. Do it for the team.
The struggle endured for the longest twenty-nine minutes in history, but we finished to a muffled applause as if I was underwater.
My eyes darted across the room, searching for something solid to hold onto, a tether in the growing chaos.
My heart holder.
Jeremy was still at the bar, but his casual ease had vanished. His brow furrowed as his eyes locked on mine, a storm of confusion and concern clouding his face. For a moment, the weight of his gaze was like an anchor, steadying me against the tide.
But that steadiness only lasted a heartbeat. His expression shifted. He mouthed the wordsHolly Gaudreauandthe weight of what I hadn’t told him reflected in his pinched expression. My stomach twisted.
He knows.
My legs moved before I could stop them, the flute slipping from my hands with a metallic clink. I stumbled off the stage, weaving through the crowd, my heels skittering against the polished marble.
Photographers swarmed the room, their camerasscanning like searchlights. Panic surged as I spotted the terrace doors through the haze of guests.
A decorative tree snagged my hair as I pushed past, painfully yanking out my hair clip, the metallic sound echoed off the floor as it bounced. But I didn’t stop.
The night air hit me like a wave as I burst onto the terrace, cool and sharp against my flushed skin. My chest heaved, my left hand tingling as I pressed it hard over my pounding heart. I gripped the stone railing, struggling to catch my breath, as the muted hum of the ballroom faded behind me.
Fleeing toward the lake, where the setting sun shone through the thick grove of trees casting dancing shadows across the water, my gaze drifted back to the ballroom where the faint flicker of chandeliers was visible through the frosted glass doors.
I’d wanted to tell him. Tonight. After the fundraiser, when the night was perfect, and everything felt safe.
But now it didn’t matter. The words I’d rehearsed in the quiet of my motel room, the confession I’d been too scared to say, felt small and pointless.
Because even if I turned back now, even if I tried to explain, I couldn’t undo the damage.
A ghosted image of his face swam into view. That pinched expression. The confusion.
We’d promised to be honest with each other, and now the truth was out.
At that moment, I had hurt the one thing I now couldn’t bear to lose.
Jeremy.
Chapter Twenty-One
The paved path running the length of the lake was quieter than I expected, the noise from the fundraiser long gone, and only the sounds of the honking geese and gentle waves lapping the shore filled the vicinity. I stopped to catch my breath under a buzzing streetlamp; its light flickering like it couldn’t decide whether to stay on or give up.
Kind of like me.
I wiped the building sweat from under my eyes, likely smudging my mascara. The adrenaline from my escape had worn off, leaving only a gnawing sense of failure and a bad case of the jitters. Everything was spiraling out of control.
“Molly!”
His voice cut through the quiet, steady and firm. Not a shout. Not angry. Just… Jeremy.
I turned slowly, my breath hitching as he jogged toward me. His tie dangled freely. His hair, usually an untamed mess, looked even wilder from the chase.
He came to a stop a few feet away, one hand disappearing into his pocket while the other held something small and delicate.
“This fell off.”
My hair clip.