Page 77 of Mistletoe & Magic
Junie is finally asleep in her room, curled against her stuffed narwhal like she’s afraid to let it go. I stand in the doorway, watching her little chest rise and fall, and every time I blink I see Ivy’s face when I told her I didn’t need her.
Even the dog is watching me with worried eyes. It isn’t lost on me that she left her here for Junie. She always putsJunie first and loves her deeply. Something I took for granted when I yelled at her.
God, what the hell is wrong with me? She loved Junie enough to leave her dog here for her. She loves us. I am the problem here. It was a simple mistake. I know that now. But in the moment, I felt like I was losing it. Losing Junie. And I said terrible things that I never should have said. After everything that Ivy has done for us.
I step into the hall and shut the door a crack, then walk back to the kitchen. The counter is spotless, but there’s a single crayon sitting by the sink. Red. The tip is worn down to a nub. Junie left it here this morning.
My throat burns, and my eyes sting from emotion, and I hate that I ruined it. Sabotaged it. Shut it all down before it could shut me down. And here I am, still shut down.
I grab a beer from the fridge and sink into the chair at the table, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. The silence presses in on me until I can hear my own heart thump with anger.
The door creaks and then shuts. Finn steps into the kitchen, takes one look at me, and shakes his head.
“You really screwed up,” he says flatly.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Thanks for the update.”
“No,” Finn says, his voice sharper. “You don’t get to sit here and sulk like you didn’t just blow up your whole life. I have seen you mad, Rem, but I have never seen you like that. You lit into Ivy like she was the enemy. She loves that kid, and she loves you. And you practically shoved her out the door.”
I grip the neck of the bottle so hard my knuckles ache. “I know.”
“Then what the hell were you thinking?”
I drag a hand through my hair. “I wasn’t thinking. I waspanicking. I thought—” My voice cracks, and I have to stop, take a long breath. “I thought I’d lost her. And all I could see was that empty shop and her gone, and my brain just…snapped. I went after the first person in front of me.”
“And that was Ivy.”
I nod with defeat.
Finn leans on the counter, arms crossed. “Sloane deserves every bit of your anger that you have for her. But not Ivy. She’s done nothing but love you and your kid. You know that.”
The words feel like gravel in my throat. “I know,” I admit. “I love Ivy. More than I have ever loved anyone but Junie. And now she’s devastated, and things might be too far gone to fix.”
Finn is quiet for a long moment. “Then you’d better figure out how to fix this. She’s not just gonna come walking back through that door, Rem. You hurt her bad. You messed this up big time. I’m so fucking pissed at you. I don’t know how you could do that to her. You lost control.”
“I know.” I groan as I drop my head into my hands. “I saw her face, and I’ll never forget it.”
That look on her face when I lashed out with those horrible things I said. I don’t even want to think about it again.
“You need to do something big for her. Show her that you messed up and it won’t happen again. Show her how much she means to you.”
He leaves me there in the kitchen, alone with the weight sitting on my chest like a cinder block.
When the house is quiet again, I get up and walk to my room. Her sweater is still on the chair by the bed, one of those soft ones she wears when she’s making cocoa or reading with Junie. I pick it up and press it to my face, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo, and it just about knocks me to my knees.
I sit there on the edge of the bed with that sweater in my hands, and all I can think is that I have to make this right.
I don’t care how. I’ll grovel or beg. I will fight harder than I ever have for anything.
Because if I lose Ivy for good, I lose the family I have been dreaming of since the day Junie was born.
And this cannot be the end of our story.
Chapter 23
Ivy
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely pull the seat belt across me. My mom doesn’t say anything as she drives, her profile calm and steady as she lets me cry in the passenger seat. My breath comes in short, uneven bursts, each one scraping against my throat.
