“Once, I ate four before a game and blamed my sluggish first period on bad ice.”
Jillie leans over his head. “Did you win?”
“No.”
“Because of Mommy’s bars?”
“Absolutely not. Your mom’s bars were the only reason I survived the shame.”
Jillie pats his hat. “You’re funny.”
“I’ve been telling people that for years.”
The laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.
Across the street, Darren is watching. So is Vanessa. So are half the people pretending to admire the wreaths outside Bellamy’s Gifts.
The old familiar humiliation rises again, but it doesn’t land the same way this time. Not with Jillie laughing above me. Not with Colby Reid standing beside me like he has all the time in the world. Not with his broad shoulders blocking the view of Darren just enough to let me breathe.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say quietly.
His gaze drops to mine.
For a second, the festival noise blurs around us. Skates scrape ice. Children laugh. A carol plays from the speakers near town hall.
“Do what?” he asks.
“Be nice because people are watching.”
His expression changes. Softens. “I’m being nice because she looked sad.”
Oh. That’s worse. That is much worse, because I can defend against pity. Charm I can ignore. Public performance I can dismiss.
Kindness, though?
Kindness is dangerous.
Jillie points upward over the crowd. “Can we see the big snowflake from over there?”
Colby looks at me again. “Official inspection?”
I should say no.
The word is right there.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Five minutes.”
Jillie cheers.
Colby walks slowly toward the center of the festival with my daughter on his shoulders, and I follow beside them like this is normal. Like I haven’t spent months feeling like the woman everyone is sorry for. Like my child hasn’t just heard something cruel. Like one of the most famous hockey players in the country hasn’t stepped into the ugliest moment of my night and somehow made it bearable.
People stare. Phones lift. I notice, but I’m too busy watching Jillie tilt her face toward the lights.
“Mommy,” she says, breathless, “I can see everything.”
Colby glances at me, and there is something unreadable in his eyes.
“Good view?” I ask her.
