Ellie Devine Rock Star

•i f*cked up•

The warmth of the kitchen, and the enticing smells coming from the huge old-fashioned red oven did nothing to help Ellie's worry.

She stared across at Daniel, unable to find words that wouldn't make things worse.

It appeared he had nothing to say to her either because he turned his back to her and poured a glass of water, sliding it across the table with a flick of his wrist.

Ellie shut her eyes, her ankle beginning to throb again while her other leg began to wobble at all her weight being on it for so long. She was hungry, and tired, and ached in her body and her heart.

All she wanted was for everything to go back to the way it had been.

She opened her eyes, reaching to pull a chair from under the table.

"Don't get settled in." Daniel's emotionless voice made her cringe like he'd sung an off-note at an opera.

"Is this our second or third argument now?" Ellie said with a small smile, attempting a joke, determined to crack through his hurt and anger somehow.

When Daniel didn't react the way he normally would—with a chuckle and a cheeky smile—but folded his arms and looked down at his feet, she knew things were going to get much more difficult than they already were.

She navigated her way onto the chair, sighing with relief when she sat down. After leaning her crutches against the table, she found her medication in her jacket pocket and tipped her head back to swallow her pill, washing it down with a sip of cool water. When she felt ready, she placed the glass on the table and lifted her eyes to Daniel, who refused to catch her gaze. "I totally get that you're upset—"

Daniel untied the apron from around his waist, screwed it up, threw it on the bench and went to the dresser.

"Daniel?" Ellie said, reaching a hand toward him across the table, wishing her ankle wasn't so sore so she could go over to him, and hold him. Then he would surely understand she loved him more than anything. But he seemed like a fragile, cracked vase, ready to fall to pieces if she even looked at him the wrong way. And it was all her fault. "I know I fucked up."

She willed him to acknowledge her as he stacked three plates onto the table with a dangerous chink, then foraged in the cutlery drawer, his movements stilted and stiff.

The door burst open again, and Ellie had to wrench her eyes from Daniel's back, to Bob, who bustled into the kitchen, his cheeks rosy, rubbing his hands together. "Ah, brilliant. I see you found each other." He beamed around the room as the dogs hustled around Ellie gazing up at her with curious eyes, their mouths dripping wet. "Now. Who's up for some plonk?" He went to the fridge and surveyed its contents. "I think we'll have to crack open the good stuff, Dan, seeing as the ladies are here."

Ellie gave Bob a small smile as one of the dogs rested its heavy head on her thigh, it's wet chin seeping through her jeans, and peered up at her. "I...uh...I'm not sure how long we're staying." She flicked her eyes to Daniel as he clattered the cutlery onto the table.

With a laugh, Bob shook his head. "Booked rooms at the pub have you?"

Ellie ran her fingers down the bridge of the dog's soft nose. "We...haven't organised anything."

She could see Bob trying to work through the idea that she, Kim and Meg had driven all the way across the country from Edinburgh without organising anything sensible - like where they were going to stay that night. But then, he was Daniel's dad, and Ellie felt sure, with Daniel's hectic life, he would be used to odd thing cropping up every now and then.

"Well, have some plonk anyway, then see what Janice says." Bob pulled a bottle of white out of the fridge. He held it up to Ellie, whose stomach surged at the idea of drinking anything alcoholic ever again.