Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 61: Again

Chapter 61: Again

Ellen’s heart was still racing, her thoughts tangled in a mess of confusion and unease as she stood beside Mason at the table. His calm demeanor only made the tension inside her worse, but she forced herself to breathe steadily. The room was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, but all she could focus on was the turmoil churning in her chest. She needed a moment to collect herself, away from the probing eyes and the awkwardness that now seemed to hang between them.

"I’m just going to the restroom," she said quietly, barely making eye contact with Mason as she stepped away.

Mason nodded, his expression unchanged, as if her leaving was of no importance. The restroom was a welcome escape, a small sanctuary where she could finally breathe. The large mirror above the marble sink reflected her face back at her, and for a moment, she just stared at her own reflection. Her makeup was still perfect, her hair meticulously styled, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of something she didn’t like. She leaned closer, examining the expression that looked almost foreign.

She had known Edrick might be here. It was a wedding party after all, and he mentioned it before. But the way he had caught her off guard, the way he spoke to her with that easy familiarity, it had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Why did she feel nervous around him? She had anticipated this, had tried to mentally prepare herself, but here she was, feeling as if she was out of her depth.

Ellen sighed, touching her face lightly, adjusting a strand of hair that didn’t really need fixing. She wasn’t even sure why she was doing it—perhaps it was just something to keep her hands busy, something to distract her from the thoughts racing through her mind. Around her, other women were doing the same, checking their makeup, fixing their hair, all of them perfectly prepared for the evening ahead. It was just another reminder of the world she was now a part of—a world she still felt like an outsider in.

After a few more moments, Ellen decided she couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. She straightened up, smoothed down her dress, and walked out, trying to summon the confidence she didn’t quite feel. But when she returned to the table, a new wave of uncertainty washed over her. Mason was gone.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly glanced around the table, her eyes scanning for any sign that she had somehow wandered to the wrong place. But no, this was definitely their table—Mason’s name card still lay there, untouched.

A frown tugged at her lips as she scanned the room, trying to catch sight of him among the crowd. But Mason was nowhere to be found. Panic started to bubble up inside her, mingled with a sharp sting of hurt. How could he just leave her here, alone, in a place where she barely knew anyone?

The room suddenly felt much larger, and the people around her, speaking in quick, fluid French, made her feel even more isolated. She didn’t speak the language—at least not well enough to engage in any meaningful conversation. "Bonjour" and "merci" weren’t going to get her very far, and the thought of being stuck here, trying to maneuver through this refined social setting alone, made her stomach twist with anxiety.

But sitting alone at the table wasn’t an option. Ellen couldn’t stand the idea of being seen as the lonely girl left behind by her date, so she forced herself to move. If she couldn’t find Mason, she could at least wander around, maybe find something to distract her from the growing sense of abandonment that was starting to claw at her.

She moved aimlessly through the crowd, her eyes darting from one group of people to the next, hoping to spot Mason. But as the minutes ticked by, she started to lose hope. What was she supposed to do now? The idea of spending the evening alone, unable to converse with the other guests, felt like a cruel joke. Mason knew she didn’t speak French, knew how out of place she felt, yet he had left her here. Cruel, that’s what it was. Cruel and thoughtless.

But just as her frustration began to peak, she caught sight of a long table set with a spread of appetizers that made her mouth water. The colorful array of delicacies was a welcome distraction, and for a moment, her worries faded into the background. There were delicate pastries filled with creamy cheeses, thinly sliced meats arranged in intricate patterns, fresh fruits glistening under the soft light, and small, artfully plated portions of seafood that looked almost too beautiful to eat.

Ellen’s eyes landed on a particularly tempting bite—a small tartlet filled with creamy goat cheese and topped with a sliver of smoked salmon and a sprig of fresh dill. Without thinking, she reached for it, her fingers closing around the delicate pastry. As she took a bite, the flavors burst in her mouth, rich and savory, the perfect blend of creamy and smoky. It was so good that she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the taste.

A voice interrupted her thoughts. "Is it that good?"

Ellen’s eyes snapped open, and she quickly swallowed the bite she was enjoying so much. Standing not too far from her, with a knowing smile on his face, was Edrick.

"Yeah," she replied, trying to keep her tone casual, though her heart had started racing again. She had been so absorbed in the food that she hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Edrick stepped closer, his presence suddenly feeling too close, too familiar.

"There’s, uh, something on the corner of your mouth," Edrick said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He leaned in slightly, and Ellen instinctively took a step back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Normally, she would have just wiped it away with her hand, but a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the basic etiquette she had learned. Not wanting to smudge her makeup or appear too flustered, she fumbled for a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth, hoping to remove whatever remnants of food had been left behind.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice barely audible as she focused on the napkin in her hand, avoiding Edrick’s gaze.

Edrick chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "No problem," he said, his tone light, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Ellen feel like he was enjoying this moment far too much.

Why did she keep ending up in these awkward situations with him? And where on earth was Mason?