“You’ve got this,” I murmured again, louder this time, as if saying it aloud might trick my nerves into settling.
I adjusted the stack of holiday novellas near the front, straightened a display of winter romances, and paused to fix a crooked sign that readSleigh Your TBR.
Snow tapped gently against the windowpanes. Outside, the world was soft and white and peaceful. But inside me? A storm brewed.
I wanted this night to feel magical. Not just for the customers. For me. I needed a win—something that said I hadn’t just run away from my old life. I’d chosen this one. And I was going to make it count.
The last box of holiday-themed books sat on the counter, the cardboard edges soft from wear. I sliced it open; the flap snapping back like a sigh of relief. Bright covers and glittering titles stared up at me, full of cheer I didn’t quite feel yet.
I’d just liftedA Christmas Kisswhen the bell above the door jingled.
Please let it be a volunteer. Or Cavil.
“Callie!”
My stomach dropped.
Leo.
He stepped in like he still had a claim, all smug smiles and fake warmth, his voice too chipper for the cold evening. His eyes swept over the shop like he was appraising it for resale.
“Leo,” I said, forcing my tone flat. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking in,” he said, strolling closer. Hands in pockets. That confident lean like he hadn’t lost the right to stand in front of me. “Cute place you’ve got.”
The way he saidcutemade me want to throw something.
“It’s coming together.” I shelved the book a little harder than necessary, the thud sharp in the quiet.
He glanced at the lights I’d strung myself, then back to me. “I heard about your little open house. Thought I’d stop in, make sure everything goes off without a hitch. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
There it was. The warning buried in civility.
I straightened. “I’ve got it handled.”
Leo leaned lazily against a shelf, eyeing the cookie table like it offended him. “Just remember—some of the donors coming tonight? They have high standards. We don’t want to disappoint.”
The decorations blurred in my vision for a moment. I fought the heat rising in my cheeks.
“They’ll see what matters,” I said, steadying myself. “And that’s more than aesthetics.”
He smiled, all teeth and pretense. “Sure, Callie. Just don’t give people a reason to talk.”
The threat wasn’t even subtle now.
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, voice brittle. “To remind me how careful I should be? How small?”
He shrugged. “Just looking out for you.”
He turned toward the door without waiting for a response, as if he hadn’t just trampled months of healing in sixty seconds.
“Thanks for stopping by,” I managed through clenched teeth as he turned toward the door.
“Good luck with everything,” he tossed over his shoulder, then disappeared into the cold.
The bell jingled behind him like punctuation—final, mocking. And then silence.
It hit me all at once, like someone had pulled the air out of the room. My heart thundered, but my insides went cold. I stood frozen for a beat, the edges of my vision fuzzy with fury and shame. I wanted to scream. Or throw something. Or crawl into the stockroom and fall apart.
