Page 38 of Mistletoe and Magic

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate, as though the truth was too bitter on her tongue. "I don’t understand all of it. I just don’t know that this is where I belong. I think that if I go back, I rewrite the novel and save you and everyone else. I don’t know what will happen if I stay." She met his eyes, and he saw the unshed tears glistening like morning dew. "If I go back, I can finish the novel in a way that protects you and what's here."

Jace's heart thundered against his ribcage—a wild drumbeat echoing the turmoil that roiled within him. He couldn't fathoma world where the warmth of her touch, the luminescence of her smile, was torn away from him. Yet, the earnestness in her words etched a stark truth into the moment: Felicity believed her departure was the key to his and the village’s salvation.

"You think if you just leave somehow the rest of us will be all right?" His question was a whisper, a breath of air that held the weight of his world. "We won’t be. I won’t be."

"No, you will. It’ll be like I was never here, and maybe the Felicity that I replaced will be the one you’re supposed to be with," she affirmed softly, squeezing his hands as if to anchor herself to him, even as destiny called her elsewhere.

His mind waged war with reality, with every rational thought that told him this was madness—yet his heart bled with the knowledge that she spoke her own kind of truth. And in the intimate space between them, Jace knew that no matter what, he would fight for her, for a love that transcended realities.

Jace released her hands, his fingers brushing the soft wool of her oversized sweater before he stood and pulled her closer. The scent of the bakery still clung to her, weaving its sweetness around him like a spell. His heart raced with an intensity that threatened to consume him whole.

"I love you, Felicity," he spoke into the quiet of her apartment, his voice roughened by the raw emotion clawing at his throat. "I can't stand the thought of you disappearing from my life. If you can’t stay here, I'll go back with you. We can start fresh in New York. I'm a chef—I can cook anywhere."

Felicity stilled in his arms, her breath hitching as she absorbed his words. Her bright eyes shimmered, reflecting the tangle of emotions that danced between hope and despair. Slowly, she extricated herself from his embrace, stepping back with a resolve that seemed to erect an invisible barrier between them.

"Jace, no." Her voice was gentle yet firm, the fidgeting of her fingers on her glasses betraying the storm within her. "I don’t even know if you could go with me. Besides, I can't let you sacrifice everything you've built here. The town... they've given so much to help you revive the lodge. Your dream is here, not in some alternate reality where we don't even know what awaits us."

Her words were like a bucket of ice water dousing the fire inside him. The people of Christmas Valley had indeed rallied behind him, their shared vision for the lodge's future binding them in a collective pursuit of something greater than themselves. How could he turn his back on that? Yet, how could he let go of the woman who'd redefined the very essence of his world?

"But without you...” he began, the plea evident in his tone.

"Without me, you will keep thriving," she interrupted, her voice laced with conviction. "You're strong, Jace. And your strength will be the beacon this town needs to continue shining, even through the harshest winters."

In that moment, Jace understood the depth of her courage. Felicity Hart, the woman who had stepped through the veil of impossibility, was prepared to walk back into uncertainty for the sake of others. And though his soul ached at the thought of losing her, he knew he couldn't ask her to forsake her purpose for his own selfish desires.

"Okay," he whispered, the word barely audible over the thumping of his heart. "Okay, Felicity."

Their hands found each other once again, holding on for one timeless second, as if the entire universe had conspired to grant them this fleeting connection—a taste of what could have been, and what might never be.

The silence between them stretched, a chasm that ached to be filled with words left unsaid. Jace watched the conflict playacross Felicity's face, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions he could barely comprehend. She was a tempest wrapped in the warmth of an oversized sweater, her curls framing her face like a halo.

"Was any of this real for you?" His question hung in the air, heavy and charged.

Felicity flinched as if his words were physical blows. "Jace," she whispered, her voice trembling, "how can you even...”

"Because I haven't heard you say it," he cut in, his own vulnerability clawing at him. His eyes searched for truth in hers, desperate to find the connection he feared was slipping away.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the moment shattered as a gust of wind howled past the windows of her flat, sending shivers through their already fragile bond. Before the words could form on her lips, before she could lay bare her soul, Jace turned away from her, a knot of confusion and yearning tightening in his chest.

He couldn't watch her struggle with her feelings, not when every fiber of his being screamed for her to stay. With each step that took him farther from her bakery, from her, he felt the threads of what they'd built begin to unravel. The lodge awaited him, a sanctuary that now seemed too distant, too cold without her presence.

As he walked, the snow crunched beneath his boots, the sound a harsh reminder of the reality he was about to face—a world where the magic of Felicity Hart might no longer exist.

22

JACE

Jace's heart thrummed against his ribs, an erratic tempo that matched the storm brewing within him as he pushed open the door to the lodge. Its usual welcoming warmth, the scent of pine and burning wood from the fireplace, now felt like an oppressive shroud, smothering him with a heat that clashed with the icy dread in his veins.

He moved mechanically through the space, the laughter and chatter around him fading into a distant murmur, lost beneath the deafening rush of his own thoughts. Felicity's confession echoed in his mind, each word a hammer strike to the foundations of what he had believed to be real. She was from another reality—a truth so bizarre, so fantastical, that it threatened to topple everything he knew about the world, about her, about them.

The lodge, once a haven, became a cell. He no longer belonged within its walls; they seemed to close in on him, trapping him in a life suddenly foreign and unrecognizable. He needed air, space—needed to escape the sense of betrayal that clawed at his throat, the confusion that clouded his vision.

Without a word to anyone, Jace slipped back outside, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the false comfort he left behind.He climbed behind the wheel, the Range Rover seeming to carry him instinctively back toward town, toward her place, though he couldn't say why. Maybe he hoped to find her there, lights ablaze, ready to laugh off this absurd tale and pull him back into her arms.

But as he approached, his heart sank. The bakery lay in darkness, its windows like vacant eyes staring back at him, devoid of the light that once spilled onto the snowy pavement. No sign of life flickered within or above; no shadow moved behind the curtains as he parked in front of her place. It was as if she had vanished, taking with her the last embers of the warmth he'd clung to.

Getting out, he stood alone under the watchful gaze of the moon, a chill seeping through his coat—not from the winter air, but from the realization that the woman he loved might be slipping away from him, perhaps to a place he could never reach. Confusion swirled with the snowflakes that danced around him, each one a silent witness to the turmoil that raged in the quiet of his soul.

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