Page 84 of Mistletoe & Magic
I shake my head and flip the phone over. “Not yet. If he wants me, he has to come to me. I can’t be the only one fighting for this.”
Rowan smiles faintly and pushes to her feet. “Then let him fight. But if you stay in this kitchen baking for much longer, you’re going to lose your mind.”
The warm glow of the bookstore lights wraps around melike a blanket, and the bell jingles overhead, and Willa grins from behind the counter as customers come in the door in search of treats and their next book to read or last-minute Christmas gifts.
“Perfect timing,” she calls. “I just unpacked a stack of new hardcovers.”
I wander over and trail my fingers over the spines, breathing in the warm, papery smell that always makes my shoulders loosen. For a few blissful minutes, I can almost forget the ache in my chest.
Rowan catches me smiling, coffee in hand. “See? Still some joy left in there.”
“I like books,” I say with a shrug.
“You like Remy more.”
I roll my eyes, but the small smile lingers. “Yeah,” I admit quietly. “I do.”
It’s after midnight when Rowan and I sit at our mom’s kitchen table with a jar of moon water between us. The moonlight from the kitchen window spills across the table, silvering the pages of my open notebook.
Rowan brings her glass to her lips and smirks. “Are you sure yours is moon water? Because mine is vodka.”
I glance at her glass, then back at her. “That explains a lot.”
She grins unapologetically and leans back in her chair.
I look down at my notebook. The pages are covered in sketches and bullet points, a fresh business plan taking shape under my pen. New products, seasonal pop-ups, classes and parties, all mapped out in neat lists. It feels good to write it out, to remind myself that I am building something for myself.
Still, there is a restless, bothered edge under my skin. Every plan I make feels a little empty without him in it.
“What are you working on?” Willa asks as she joins us, sliding in the chair across from me.
I glance down at the notebook and wrap my hands around my glass, staring at the moonlight glinting off the water. “My future.”
Rowan nods as if she has been waiting for me to say it. “And what does that include?”
“I want to be a successful business owner like you two. Take a page out of your playbooks. I want to set up a shop called The Good Witch. I want to do birthday parties and events for kids. Something fun that I can do year-round, that will bring people together to have fun.”
“Okay, that is fantastic and something you would be so good at,” Willa nods in appreciation. “Where will you do them?”
“I was hoping to use your shops until I can rent a space of my own?” I ask hesitantly.
“Of course,” Rowan immediately agrees.
“You’ve always loved kids. I think you’d be great at that,” Willa agrees. “We’ll do everything we can to support you.”
And I’m finally starting to feel hope. Even if I’m finding it on my own.
I sit by the window after Rowan leaves, the night so quiet I can hear the water down by the cove. I let myself imagine him sitting beside me, his big hand warm over mine.
My phone sits face down on the table. I flip it over, type out a message,I miss you.Then stare at it until my throat aches and my chest feels too tight. And then I delete the words.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will see what he does.
And if he fights for me, maybe…just maybe…I’ll let himwin.
The morning air is crisp when I step off the front porch of my mom’s house, cool enough to make me tug my cardigan tighter around my shoulders. The sun is just coming up over the trees, streaking the cove with gold, and for a second, the beauty of it steals my breath.
I head into town because I need to do something with my restless energy before I spiral back into overthinking. Willa’s bookstore is already open, and the bell jingles when I step inside.
