“Good,” she said. “Maybe it’ll get through that big, sarcastic city-girl brain of yours.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled.
“Come on,” she said, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s walk before I start getting sentimental.”
“Too late.”
She laughed, and we started strolling past the vendor stalls again. The smell of caramel corn wafted through the air, and somewhere nearby, a group of carolers was doing their best to harmonize.
It should’ve been too much. Too festive, too loud, tooReckless River.But something about the moment eased the tightness in my chest.
We stopped at a stall selling hand-painted ornaments, each one unique and glittering. Lydia picked one up, a glass snowflake with gold trim, and smiled.
“For the baby’s first Christmas,” she said softly, paying for the item.
I felt my throat catch again. “You’re going to be an incredible mom, you know that?”
She looked at me, eyes warm. “Only if I can guilt you into being the world’s best honorary aunt.”
I laughed. “You’ve already got that locked down.”
She slipped the ornament into her bag, her grin widening. “Then it’s settled.”
We wandered for a while longer, weaving through the crowd. The laughter, the chatter, the music—it all started to soak in. Slowly, the edges of my self-pity melted, replaced by something gentler.
By the time we circled back toward the river, the sky had begun to turn that late-afternoon shade of rose gold, the water reflecting the light in shimmers.
And there, on the far side of the street, was Drew.
He was helping one of the vendors haul a heater closer to a stall, sleeves pushed up, flannel rolled to his elbows, snow catching in his hair. He looked… sensational.
Lydia followed my gaze and smiled. “You know, I think that man’s been in love with you since before you realized it.”
“Don’t,” I said, but my voice cracked just a little.
She squeezed my arm. “Then go talk to him. Or don’t. But don’t pretend you don’t care.”
I swallowed hard, the words catching somewhere between my heart and common sense.
She started walking toward a booth selling cider, leaving me standing there with my pulse racing and my courage arguing with itself.
And maybe it was the music drifting from the speakers, some classic crooner singing about love and Christmas and second chances, or maybe it was the look on Drew’s face when he finally noticed me.
But in that moment, I stopped thinking about city apartments and long-distance problems and every reason I’d given myself not to fall.
Because when he smiled that slow, warm, and a little uncertain grin, I realized Lydia was right.
Maybe itwasthat simple.
Sometimes you just had to let go of fear long enough to see what was standing right in front of you.
Across the street, Drew laughed at something the vendor said, head tipped back, snow catching in his hair like a hundred glittering secrets. He looked like he belonged here…like part of the landscape itself. The flannel, the easy grin, the way people naturally gravitated toward him. Reckless River fit him like it had been made for him.
And me? I was still standing on the curb, staring like someone watching a movie they didn’t remember auditioning for.
Lydia handed me a cider and nudged me once more, but when I didn’t move, she sighed.
“Fine. Stubborn as ever.” She turned toward a booth selling hand-knit scarves. “But you can’t dodge this forever, Mel. Eventually, you’re going to have to decide whether you’re runningfromsomething ortowardit.”
