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"Of course, I'll let you know soon," I said, my words hollow as the snowflakes painted on Blair's window.

Ending the call, I returned to find Blair's questioning eyes upon me. "Big things, huh?" Blair said softly, sensing the inner storm raging within my friend.

"Or maybe... the right things are smaller than I thought," I whispered, more to myself than to Blair, my gaze wandering to the simple joy reflected in the ornaments hanging from the tree.Chapter Felicity

"Thomas," I called out, her voice threading through the soft chatter of the café.

He looked up, his smile a natural phenomenon that could've melted glaciers. "Hey, city girl. What brings you in from the cold?"

"Need your barista wisdom," I quipped, sliding onto a stool at the counter. "Can I run something by you?"

"Shoot," he said, artfully pouring the milk into a cup, creating a heart within the swirling foam.

"Imagine, hypothetically," I started, tracing the rim of the cup set before me, "that you're offered a dream job—but it's thousands of miles away from... well, a different dream."

"Okay" Thomas replied, leaning against the counter, his gaze steady and thoughtful.

"There's this promotion, it's big, Thomas. But then there's Amesbury, and there's..." I trailed off, cheeks coloring as I dared not finish that sentence.

"Sounds to me like you're trying to decide whether to chase the promotion or plant roots with me," Thomas said softly.

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands. "But what would you do, if you were me?"

Thomas chuckled, glancing down at his apron dusted with cocoa powder. "Well, I'm more of a 'stay and fight for what I love' kind of guy. "

"True," I sighed, biting my lower lip. "You make staying seem so simple."

"Simple? Hardly," he laughed, his eyes crinkling again. "But worthwhile? Absolutely."

As I sipped the coffee, tasting the sweet trace of caramel, I pondered Thomas's words. They weren't decisive, nor were they directive, but they were tethered to something real—something as comforting as the worn pages of my favorite novel nestled on the shelves of my childhood room.

"Thanks, Thomas," I said. "For the advice, and the heart." I gestured toward the coffee art with a playful wink.

"Anytime," he replied.

Her laugh was short-lived, a half-hearted chuckle that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm scared, Thomas," she confessed, the words spilling out like the first hesitant drops before a downpour. "Here I am, back in our little snow-globe of a town, and I feel torn. My career in New York is everything I've worked for, but when I'm there, I feel like I'm missing a piece of myself... a piece that I only seem to find here. With you."

I felt the weight of her confession press against my chest, my heart contracting with empathy for the woman who always seemed so in control.

"Career or heart," I echoed softly, the gravity of her predicament settling in my stomach like a stone. I watched her, saw the vulnerability she rarely showed, the internal battle that raged behind her stoic facade. It was as if she stood at the crossroads of two diverging paths in a snow-covered wood, and he ached to guide her steps.

"Sounds like a tough choice," I said, keeping my tone even, though inside, my mind raced through scenarios in which we could navigate this impasse. I couldn't bear the thought of her leaving, of the vibrancy she brought to my life fading into memory.

"Sometimes I wonder if following my heart is just a fancy way of saying I'm giving up on my dreams," Felicity whispered, the timbre of her voice revealing the depth of her inner turmoil.

I reached out, my hand hovering over hers before making contact, warmth spreading from my skin to hers. "Or maybe it's about finding new ones," I offered, hoping my words could be the compass she needed.

My gaze held Felicity’s, steady as the gentle snowfall that dusted our little town with winter's tender touch. The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of us, standing in the heart of a Christmas card scene, where twinkling lights and festive garlands witnessed their intimate exchange.

"Hey," I said softly, voice a soothing balm against the chill of her worries. "Whatever you decide, know that I get it. Your happiness... it's what matters most." A wry smile played on my lips, a silent acknowledgment of the irony that a coffee shop owner was preaching about following dreams.

Felicity watched me, the corners of her eyes crinkling as if she were trying to read the final pages of an unwritten novel. She bit her bottom lip, a habit that betrayed her uncertainty.

"Is it?" she asked, her words edged with a playful skepticism that underscored the gravity of the conversation. "Because last time I checked, Mr. Barista-Bard, you had opinions about every choice I made, from my coffee order to my life decisions."

"Guilty as charged," I admitted, my hand tightening around hers. I drew her closer, wrapping her in the warmth of my embrace. My breath puffed out in visible clouds, mingling with hers, a dance of frosty whispers in the air between us.

"Listen," I murmured, my green eyes flickering with a flame only she could kindle. "I love you, Felicity. More than I ever thought possible. And the idea of a future without you is like a book missing its most compelling chapter. It's unthinkable."