Page 40 of Mistletoe and Magic

The night held its breath with her, poised in a silent vigil as midnight approached. And there, beneath the watchful gaze of the clock, Felicity Hart let her courage swell. She would step back into her reality and rewrite the necessary chapters to save Jace and the town with the same fortitude it took to fill blank pages with worlds born from the whispers of her imagination.

Because just as the clock would continue its eternal march, so, too, would she move forward, chasing the story yet to be told—her fate intertwined in the relentless dance of time.

The chime of laughter and the soft murmur of voices wrapped around Felicity like a cashmere shawl, warm yet weighty with the impending decision that lay upon her shoulders. Her gaze traced the whimsical dance of lights as they wavered and wound through the trees, casting shadows that seemed to sway in time with the carolers' harmonious melodies. Couples, bundled in their winter finery, laughed andspoke in quiet, dulcet tones, their cheeks rosy from the cold and excitement.

With each passing moment, the ethereal beauty of it all etched itself deeper into Felicity’s heart, the splendor of the night a stark contrast to the tempest brewing within her. She could feel the very essence of Christmas Valley seeping into her veins, and it was intoxicating, seductive, but it also served as a poignant reminder of what she stood to lose—or to save.

She pulled the thick wool coat tighter around her frame, not just against the chill of the December air, but as if the action could somehow shield her from the torrent of emotions that threatened to spill forth. Her fingers found the hem, teasing the frayed edge with a nervous energy that mirrored the inner tumult of her thoughts.

"By New Year's Eve," she whispered to herself, the words barely audible above the wind that had begun to pick up. It was a mantra, a tether to the choice that had to be made if she were to attempt to rescue this very joy, these very moments. Felicity knew that stepping back into her own reality meant peeling back layers of her own vulnerabilities, confronting ghosts that haunted the silent corridors of her heart.

She almost wished the clock would speed up. Remaining here amidst the cacophony of life in Christmas Valley was agony—each note of mirth a poignant stab reminding her of the gulf between this reality and hers. And yet, the thought of leaving tore at her, the fabric of her being interwoven with the magic of this place, a tapestry too complex to unravel without consequence.

"Courage, Felicity," she murmured, adjusting the glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose, seeking solace in their familiar weight. With each tick of the clock, the future—a future she might yet alter—loomed closer, its approach as relentless as the passage of time itself.

The juxtaposition of the joy of the night with the ache of her decision lent a bittersweet tang to the air, sharper than the winter's bite. But within that pain bloomed a fierce determination, a resolve to reclaim the narrative of her own life, much like the heroines of the novels she so cherished and would, she promised herself, someday write.

But tonight, Felicity stood at the crossroads of her destiny, the courage of her convictions blazing within her, a beacon that would guide her through the encroaching darkness. Before the new year dawned, she could shape not only her own fate but the very fabric of Christmas Valley itself.

As the old clock tower announced the arrival of midnight, a hush seemed to fall all around her. Felicity's breath caught in the cool winter air, her eyes reflecting the twinkling lights that adorned the festive scene. And then, he was there, striding toward her through the snowfall—a figure at once familiar and heartbreakingly handsome.

Snowflakes clung to the curls of his hair like a crown of frost, yet they seemed unable to chill the warmth that radiated from him. As he neared, the intensity in his eyes pierced the distance between them, stirring something deep within Felicity's chest.

He stopped before her, close enough for her to see the flecks of gold around his pupils, close enough for his body heat to mingle with hers. The scent of pine and the faintest hint of woodsmoke clung to his flannel shirt—a scent that spoke of nights spent by roaring fires and days amidst the snowy embrace of the valley.

"Jace," she whispered, her voice barely rising above the whispering wind. The timbre of her own words surprised her—there was no tremble of uncertainty, only the resonance of a woman standing on the precipice of fate.

“Do you love me?” he asked and waited.

She owed him the truth. “Yes…” she started to say more but he placed two fingers over her lips to silence her.

“And do you believe I love you?”

“Yes.”

"Then whatever the hell it is you think you have to do will have to wait until midnight on New Year’s Eve," Jace said, a smile tilting his lips despite the solemnity of the occasion.

“You don’t understand. I have to go back and have enough time to fix this.”

“I have faith in you that you can, but do you have enough faith in me and in us to wait?”

The tenderness in his gaze threatened to unravel her, but Felicity held fast, anchored by the courage that had blossomed within her. His mere presence solidified her resolve, for he embodied the very essence of what she feared losing—the connection, the passion, the spark of something extraordinary.

“Kiss me, Felicity. Believe in us.”

He pulled her into a passionate embrace as the clock struck midnight. But this moment was more than the sum of their desires; it was the fulcrum upon which the future balanced. With each heartbeat, with each toll of the bells, the weight of their choices pressed down upon them, shaping the contours of tomorrow—its fate and theirs suspended on the precipice of a single, crystalline moment.

23

JACE

Northwind Lodge

Christmas Valley, Vermont

Three Hours Earlier

“What’s up? With me? What’s up with you?” Ryan Murphy’s voice was as clear as a bell on the other end of the call. “What the hell are you doing in Christmas Valley, Vermont?”

---