Page 39 of Chloe

“Rebecca,” I greet her, managing a small smile. “I was just... thinking.”

She links her arm through mine, steering me towards a quiet corner of the market. “About Oliver?” she asks gently.

I nod, not trusting my voice. We stop near the ice skating rink, watching as couples and families glide across the ice, their laughter carried on the cold air.

“I saw him earlier,” I admit. “He... he walked away when he saw me.”

Rebecca squeezes my arm sympathetically. “Oh, Chloe. I’m so sorry. But you can’t give up hope. The course of true love never did run smooth, you know.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her dramatic delivery. “Shakespeare? Really?”

She grins, unrepentant. “Hey, the classics are classics for a reason. But seriously, Chloe. Don’t lose heart. What you and Oliver have... it’s special. It’s worth fighting for.”

As I look out over the market, taking in the joy and love that seem to radiate from every corner, I feel a renewed sense of determination. “You’re right,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “I’m not giving up.”

Rebecca beams at me, her smile impossibly bright. “That’s the spirit. Now, what do you say we go check out the ornament stall? I heard they have some beautiful hand-blown glass ones this year.”

As we wander through the market, arm in arm, I truly appreciate the magic of the season for perhaps the first time in my adult life. The way the lights reflect off the snow, creating a warm glow that seems to embrace everything. The sound of carols sung by a group of children, their voices not quite in tune but filled with enthusiasm. The taste of hot mulled cider, spicy and sweet on my tongue.

We stop at a stall selling handmade scarves and gloves. As I run my fingers over the soft wool, an idea begins to form.

“Rebecca,” I say slowly, “do you think the market organizers would let me set up a stall? Not to sell anything, but... to give something back to the community?”

Rebecca’s eyes light up with interest. “I’m sure they would. What did you have in mind?”

I explain my idea, watching as Rebecca’s smile grows wider with each word. By the time I finish, she’s practically bouncing with excitement.

“Chloe, that’s brilliant,” she exclaims. “It’s perfect. Oh, we have to make this happen. Come on, let’s go talk to the organizers right now.”

As we hurry through the market, dodging shoppers and ducking under garlands, I feel a sense of excitement building in my chest. For the first time since my fight with Oliver, I feel truly hopeful. This is my chance to show Benton Falls—to show Oliver—who I really am. Who I want to be.

We find the market coordinator, Mrs. Clausen, near the hot chocolate stand. She listens to my proposal with growing interest, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, Chloe,” she says when I finish, “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’d be delighted to have you join us. How soon can you be ready?”

I glance at Rebecca, who gives me an encouraging nod. “Tomorrow,” I say firmly. “I can be ready by tomorrow.”

As we leave Mrs. Clausen to make the necessary arrangements, Rebecca turns to me with a grin. “Well, looks like we’ve got a busy night ahead of us. Ready to spread some Christmas cheer, Benton Falls style?”

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this.”

We spend the rest of the evening planning and preparing, fueled by excitement and more than a little Christmas magic. As the night wears on and our plans take shape, I find myself filled with a sense of purpose I’ve never felt before. This isn’t about business strategies or profit margins. It’s about giving back, about being part of something bigger than myself.

As I finally crawl into bed in the early hours of the morning, exhausted but exhilarated, I send up a silent prayer of thanks. For Rebecca’s friendship, for the warmth of this community, for the chance to become the person I want to be.

Eighteen

CHLOE

The next morning dawns bright and cold, the sun glinting off the fresh snow that fell overnight. I’m up with the birds, too excited and nervous to sleep any longer. As I sip my coffee, looking out at the winter wonderland that is Benton Falls, I feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

Today’s the day. The day I show this town—and hopefully, Oliver — that I’m here to stay. That I understand now what it means to be part of a community, to give without expectation of return.

Rebecca arrives just as I’m finishing my second cup of coffee, her arms laden with supplies. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and soon we’re both caught up in a flurry of activity, packing up everything we need for our surprise at the market.

As we make our way to the park, the streets are still quiet. Most of the town is still asleep. But there’s a sense of anticipation in the air, as if Benton Falls itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what the day will bring.

We set up our stall in record time, hanging the banner I stayed up half the night painting: “Chloe’s Christmas Wish.” The table is laden with an assortment of items - gift cards, handmade crafts, toys, and more - all waiting to be given away.

---