Page 81 of Mistletoe & Magic
“Rowan—” I start to object. But it does no good.
“No.” She jabs the bat in my direction, and my gut says she wouldn’t hesitate to swing it if I say the wrong thing. “Do I need to break your kneecaps, or are you planning to fix this, you dumbass?”
Knowing what I did to Ivy hits me harder than the bat ever could.
Tate coughs into his fist, trying not to laugh. Finn is grinning outright now, like he’s got front-row seats to the best show in town.
“I’m going to fix it,” I say quickly. The words come out desperate, but hell, that’s what I am. “We were just planning what to do to make it up to her. Trying to figure out how to make her forgive me and trust me again.”
Rowan studies me for a long second. I hold her gaze, letting her see every ounce of regret and fear in me, because there’s no point hiding it anymore.
Finally, she nods. “Good. Because I didn’t feel like violence today, anyway.” She lets the bat drop to her side, and despite myself, I flinch.
She glares at me, “Fix this.”
She turns on her heel and heads for the door, tossing over her shoulder, “Don’t screw this up, Remy. She deserves better than what you gave her. Don’t be like Douchey Derek.”
The barn is silent until the truck door slams again, and her truck growls to life.
Tate exhales slowly and looks at Finn. “Bro. You picked the unhinged one.”
Finn smiles as if he just won a prize at the fair. “I know.”
Despite myself, I laugh, short, bitter, but real. I scrub a handover my face. “Fine. Plan time. I’m not letting her get away from me.”
Tate grins, satisfied. “Good. Because if you don’t win her back, Rowan’s gonna come back swinging. And I can’t wait to see that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure your funeral is nice.”
The house is too quiet when I get home. Junie’s at my mom’s for a sleepover, which means I don’t have her to keep me busy and not think about Ivy not being here right now.
I send her a text because I can’t stand it a minute longer.
I miss you. I’m so sorry, Ivy. Can we talk?
Ivy: You hurt me. I don’t know if I want to talk yet.
How can I fix this?
Ivy: I don’t know. Please tell Junie I love her, and I’m sorry.
I will. I’m going to make this right, Ivy.
I need to show her how much she means to us. I need her to feel how much I love her and need her. This house is cold and lonely without her. I need her. I want her back here where she belongs.
I toe off my boots by the door and just stand there for a minute, staring at nothing. The fight with Ivy keeps replaying like a bad movie on loop—the way her face went pale, the hurt in her eyes when I yelled at her. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip because it’s my own damn fault.
My chest aches, sharp and heavy, and I know if I don’t do something, I’ll drown in this guilt.
I find myself at the doorway to my office at the front of the house. Calling it an “office” is generous. It’s a storage room. The bay windows at the front of the house are hidden behind towers of boxes. Boxes from my old life that contain old law books, files and documents stacked everywhere. You can barely take two steps inside without bumping into something. I don’t even know why I kept all of this. There’s no way I’d ever go back to practicing law. I know I’m where I’m supposed to be right now.
I lean against the door frame and let out a long breath. This was supposed to be a space where I could start fresh, build something new after Sloane walked out. Instead, it’s just a graveyard of the man I used to be. I pictured myself sitting in here working on paperwork. But this room isn’t mine. I have other plans for it.
And Ivy…she’s the first good thing to walk through my door in a long damn time.
I picture her sitting in here with sunlight streaming through those big windows, plants on tables, maybe one of her candles burning. She’d probably laugh at the state of this room, but I can already see her bringing it back to life. The image hits me hard, right in the ribs. I picture photos on the walls of her, Junie, and me doing life together.
My throat feels tight, but for the first time all day, I feel steady. I know what I need to do.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Tate and Finn.
