Page 66 of Meet Me on Christmas Eve

“Don’t say you’re working on another plan to convince Jane.” She shook her head slightly. “Terry is family, and she’s going to give it to him if he wants it. And it seems like he does.”

I inhaled sharply. If Jane wanted it to stay in the family, that was likely to happen. But there were still numerous tactics I could try in order to convince her—legal or financial routes that we hadn’t gone yet because, well, I wanted this to be organic. Friendly. I had not only money but powerful contacts and advisors on my side.

But none of it mattered.

Terry wanted the village.

He’d lost everything and had to reinvent himself and his future. Owning the village was his future—he was already such an integral part of the community, working at the shop and running the tree farm. And who knew what else?

“If Terry wants the village, I’m not going to stand in his way.”

Hazel stared at me for a long time and then finally nodded, a smile overtaking her face.

“You’re so happy about this … after all our hard work?” I was mostly teasing but just a teeny bit annoyed.

“I’m happy because you get to be with Terry!”

I winced. “Haz, I’m really sorry things couldn’t work out for you and the cruise guy, but Terry and I aren’t—”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She laughed.Laughed.“Yeah, I might’ve gone a bit overboard with thinking he was my soulmate. Sorry about the crazy-making on the phone on Christmas. Really … I am frustrated with relationships, but a couple days on a French holiday cruise does not a relationship make. No, what I mean is, you and Terry can be together now. Because you’re conceding the village.”

With my brows furrowed, I started to say, “Wait, I don’t think—” I stopped.

Was she right?

“Thatwasthe reason you told him you couldn’t be together, right?”

I nodded. “It was. But I—it wasn’t the whole truth. Some of it was … insecurity.”

She scoffed. “Meh, you’re always going to have that. We all do.” She smiled. “I don’t mean to make light of it, sorry. Have you thought about therapy?”

“I always convinced myself I didn’t need it, which I can see now is ridiculous.” I breathed deeply. “OK, I’ll look into it. Mariana 3.0 isn’t afraid of talking about her feelings … with a total stranger, right?” I smiled wryly.

“Atta girl.” Hazel smiled.

We were silent for a while, and I tried to pin down what, if anything, was still holding me back with Terry.

She waved her hand in front of me. “Get out of your head, Mari. We have some strategizing to do. And I need to get your Christmas presents out of my car!”

My face twisted into cringe. “Shit, Hazel. I just realized I forgot to wrap a couple of yours that came late. I can—” I stopped when she waved her hand dismissively. Yeah, OK. she didn’t care if things were wrapped. But I did. I loved Christmas wrapping.

But then I raised my eyebrows as I remembered the first part of what she said. “We do?”

She rolled her eyebrows. “Of course we do. You’re going to win Terry back. From what I’ve seen though, he’s prone to being grumpy. And stubborn. So we’ll have to work with that.”

“Yes!” My lips curved into a small smile. “Hazel, you always know exactly what I need. So, tell me what to do, wise friend.”

Chapter 20

“Itold you yesterday, Haz. He wants nothing to do with me,” I said glumly, spinning around in my ergonomic office chair to observe the nearly empty space around me. “He hasn’t returned my calls or texts. Or emails. Or Instagram messages. Deja vu.”

“Hmm, well, I hope you’re not thinking of giving up, Mari. I’m sure he just needs some time.” I could hear the false optimism in her voice though. In a slightly more natural tone, she asked, “So are you going to hire movers or—”

“Way ahead of you. They’re almost done. I have about an hour left before they pack up my office furniture and compter, where I’m still working.” I almost wished I was doing the packing myself. At least it would be a good distraction. I needed to stop thinking.

She laughed. “If you must work, why don’t you just go to your official office downstairs?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just … letting go is hard.” I’d always heard people say that actually, but I’d never really experienced it. In the past, letting go wasn’t a difficulty; letting go meant walking away from struggle and bad memories. I was grateful to be able to let go of those parts of my past. But this part … this was perhaps the first time in my life I’d been proud of something. Granted, it wasn’t really a home. Living in a private suite in the resort wasn’t the same as having a place to truly call my own, and only mine. I was excited to be finally moving out—especially having found a gorgeous Victorian rental in town that was already vacant—but it was bittersweet all the same.

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