Where Do Broken Hearts Go? | Unexpected Series Book One

Chapter 9: Social Anxiety and Mother Guilt

A/N: double update for you all!  Mainly because I accidentally wrote this chapter first in wrong order of POV!  But my mistake is your gain!  Thanks for all the lovely and funny comments and for voting...it makes my heart soar to read them all! x

Beth's POV

Soon everyone was finished and forks were clanging into empty bowls.

"That really was delicious," Harry says to me, "I should get the recipe for mum."

I nod my head in agreement.

"Absolutely!" I reply, "remind me before you go."

The kids get up from the table and start to clear away everyone's bowls.

Except for mine that is.

"Let me get that for you Harry," Chloe says, as she gives him the sweetest smile.

Someone get me a bucket.

The kids busy themselves as they pull the fruit salad and cream out of the fridge.

"Um...what about my bowl?" I question, no one in particular.

"You've got legs mum," Jamie say from the kitchen.

Okay.

I see Harry try not to laugh.

I rise up out of the chair and take my bowl over to the sink myself.

"I might wait for dessert," I tell them, "Harry?"

I look over to him, "do you want yours yet?"

"I might as well wait too," he agrees, "but how about some more wine?"

Dear god, please don't let me say something stupid after two glasses, I silently pray.

"Hey mum!" Chloe calls, "can we please take these upstairs and watch our own movie before bed? Please?" she bats her eyelids.

No, please don't leave me alone with him. I can't be left to look at that face by myself, let alone carry on some form of conversation.

"Of course you can," I say, my voice more confident that I actually feel.

You're all disowned now anyway.

"Grab the chocolate Jamie," Nick whispers before I watch all three disappear upstairs.

Traitors.

I take a deep breath and grab the bottle of wine and head back over to the table. I go to unscrew the lid but Harry takes the bottle out of my hands.

"Allow me," he says.

Now, you know in those fanfiction stories where people talk about sparks flying or electricity passing through fingertips as people touch? That kind of outlandish fantasy crap?

It's true.

It feels like fire on my fingers when he touched my hand. His skin is so warm and I can't explain it but it makes me gasp.

And like the idiot I am, I try to cover it up with a pretend cough and end up inducing an actual coughing fit. In my haste to drink some liquid, I grab my wine glass and take a large mouthful of white wine in the hopes it will help.

Uh...no.

It only serves to make it worse as the crispness of it takes my breath away even more and I end up bent over, coughing even more.

Harry is on his feet, one hand pats my back as the other holds me by the arm.

"Are you okay?" although he sounds serious and concern is evident, so does a hint of amusement in his voice.