They sat at the counter, the three of them, sipping cocoa and talking about decorating plans and holiday memories. Outside, the snow fell heavier now, blanketing Frost Pine Ridge in fresh white. The streetlights began to flicker on, casting their warm glow across the town square.
Through the window, Felicity could see the First Bank of Frost Pine Ridge, its windows glowing golden, the tree visible through the glass. She thought about Grant in there, probably at his desk, probably organizing something, probably thinking about her the same way she was thinking about him.
They had time. Time to build something real, something solid. No rush. Just two people learning to dance together,learning to blend sparkle and structure into something beautiful.
“You’re smiling,” Jade observed.
“I’m happy,” Felicity said simply.
“You should be,” Meena said, raising her mug in a toast. “You’re officially Frost Pine Ridge’s hometown hero. The woman who saved Christmas.”
“I didn’t save Christmas?—“
“You kind of did,” Jade interrupted. “The gala was perfect. The bank is thriving. Grant Whitaker is a human being again instead of a spreadsheet with a pulse. That’s all you.”
“It was a team effort,” Felicity protested.
“Led by you,” Meena said firmly. “Take the win, Felicity. You earned it.”
So Felicity took the win. She sat there with her friends, drinking cocoa and watching the snow fall, and let herself feel the full weight of her triumph.
She was a professional. She had a real check for her work. She had clients lining up. She had friends who believed in her. She had a man who saw her sparkle and called it beautiful instead of childish.
She had built something real.
And this—this moment, this peace, this joy—this was just the beginning.
Felicity took another sip of her cocoa, looked at her friends, and felt something settle deep in her chest.
She was home.
She was enough.
She was exactly where she was supposed to be.
And this—this beautiful, messy, sparkly life—was just beginning.
