Page 31 of Christmas Bubble

“What’s your real name?” he asks, and I don’t know why this is important to him, but I give in.

“Curtis John Merroll.”

“We have the same middle name,” he says.

I smile. What an inconsequential piece of information, but somehow, I feel it opens the door between our worlds so we can finally meet.

“Why Bubble?”

“I was raised by my grandmother. She used to call me Bubble. Said I was always in my own little world. Nothing and no one could ever burst my happiness. It was as if I floated under the power of my own special magic. It kinda stuck after that.” I scrunch my nose. “And it’s a thousand percent better than Curtis.”

He laughs. “Thank you for telling me that, Curtis.”

If he was anyone else, I’d punch him in the ribs until he called me Bubble, but hearing my real name for the first time in years coming from his lips is indescribable.

This man is going to grind my heart into dust, and worse, I’m going to let him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say.

He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, staring at the fire in front of him.

“Yes, Bubble, you make me uncomfortable, but not—”

My phone rings, interrupting Coach. I want to throw it to the other side of the room because I need to know what he’s going to say next, but when I see Juju’s name come up, I freeze.

She’s supposed to be mid-flight, and last I checked, you don’t get Wi-Fi in Basic Economy.

“I need to get this,” I say as I swipe the screen.

Coach nods.

“Juju, who did you flirt with to get an upgrade?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“You know,” I say, stating the obvious, “your upgrade. Is he super sexy? Did you get his number to see him again?”

“Bubble, honey, my flight was canceled. Haven’t you seen the news? Everything is closed because of the storm.”

I’m glad I’m sitting because if I was standing, my knees would buckle.

“The…storm?”

She sighs. “You’ve been baking and singing Christmas songs and totally forgotten about the world, haven’t you?”

“You’re half right,” I say.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I hate that you’re all on your own out there. Maybe we can have our Christmas dinner and open our presents together via video call.”

She’s trying to sound positive, but I can hear the disappointment in her voice. She forgets I know her as well as she knows me, but I play along.

“Yeah, sure, let’s do that,” I say.

“Okay, speak to you later.”

She ends the call, and I just stare at my phone for a moment.

“Is everything okay?”