Page 41 of Evan

"Thank you, Maggie," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "Merry Christmas."

Maggie's eyes twinkle with a wisdom that seems beyond her years. "Merry Christmas to you too, Betty. I’m grateful there are angels like you around."

I feel a jolt of surprise, but before I can respond, Maggie continues, "Oh, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. I've always believed there were angels among us, especially at Christmas."

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me at her words. "Well, Maggie, I'd say you're a bit of an angel yourself. The way you bring people together in this bakery, the love you put into everything you do... it's its own kind of miracle."

Maggie blushes, waving off my compliment. "Oh, hush. I just do what anyone would do. Now, tell me, what do you think is going to happen with Evan and Molly?"

I can't help but grin, feeling a surge of excitement. "I have a feeling that this Christmas is going to be very special for both of them. Love has a way of finding its path, especially when it's meant to be."

Maggie nods, her eyes bright with anticipation. "Well, I can't wait to see it unfold. Those two deserve all the happiness in the world."

As we chat, the bakery bustling around us with the warmth and joy of Christmas Eve, I feel a deep sense of contentment. This is what it's all about, I realize. Not grand gestures or miraculous interventions, but the small moments of connection, of kindness, of love shared between people.

As Maggie returns to her customers and I prepare to make my way back to the celestial realm, I take one last look around the bakery. The twinkling lights, the laughter of families, the aroma of freshly baked treats - it all blends together into a perfect snapshot of Christmas magic.

With a heart full of joy and excitement, I step out into the crisp winter air of Benton Falls, ready to see just what happens next. Evan’s heart is in the right place—I just hope I can say the same for Molly.

Twenty-One

EVAN

The winter wind nips at my cheeks as I rush through the streets of Benton Falls, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear. The town is alive with Christmas Eve excitement, twinkling lights adorning every lamppost and storefront, but I barely notice the festive atmosphere. My mind is focused on one thing only: Molly.

How could I have been so blind?

The realization of what I almost threw away hits me like a physical force, propelling me forward with renewed urgency. The weight of Morgan's boss’s business card, still tucked in my pocket, feels like a lead weight—a reminder of the momentary lapse that nearly cost me everything that truly matters.

As I round the corner onto Molly's street, I'm struck by the sight of her modest sage-green bungalow. The small front porch is adorned with a simple wreath and twinkling white lights, a warm glow emanating from the windows. It's not grand or fancy, but it radiates a sense of home that makes my chest ache with longing.

I pause at the foot of her driveway, suddenly unsure. What if I'm too late? What if she doesn't want to hear what I have to say? The doubt threatens to overwhelm me, but then I remember Betty's words from the bakery: "It's never too late for love, Evan. Especially on Christmas Eve."

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and make my way to the front door.

There’s a hint of fresh snow in the air, mingling with the crisp winter breeze. I can hear the faint strains of "Silent Night" playing from inside, and for a moment, I'm transported back to all the Christmases of my childhood—the warmth, the love, the sense of belonging.

Before I can second-guess myself again, I raise my hand and knock on the door. The seconds that pass feel like an eternity, each one stretching out with agonizing slowness. And then, suddenly, the door swings open, and there she is.

Molly stands before me, her chestnut hair slightly mussed, wearing a soft green sweater that brings out the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us charged with unspoken emotions.

"Evan?" she says, her voice a mixture of surprise and wariness. "What are you doing here?"

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. How do I express the tumult of emotions swirling inside me? How do I make her understand that in the span of a few hours, my entire world view has shifted?

"Molly, I... I made a mistake," I begin, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I've been so focused on what I thought I wanted, on this idea of adventure and freedom, that I almost missed the most incredible adventure of all — the one right here, with you and Chad."

Her expression softens slightly, but I can still see the hurt in her eyes. "Evan, I–"

"Please," I interrupt gently, "let me finish. I've been taking so much for granted—this town, the farm, the people here. But most of all, I've been taking you for granted. You and Chad... you've brought so much light into my life, so much joy. The thought of leaving, of giving that up... it's unthinkable."

I take a step closer, my heart in my throat. "I love you, Molly. I love Chad. You're not just part of my life—you are my life. And if you'll let me, I want to spend every day showing you how grateful I am for that."

Molly's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for a moment, I'm terrified I've said too much, too soon. But then she reaches out, her hand gently cupping my cheek. The warmth of her touch sends a shiver through me, igniting a spark of hope in my chest.

"Oh, Evan," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too. But I'm scared. What if you wake up one day and regret staying? What if–"

I shake my head, covering her hand with mine. "That's not going to happen. I know that now. Everything I've ever wanted, everything I've been searching for—it's right here. In this town, on that farm, with you and Chad. That's the adventure I want, Molly. That's the life I choose."

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