Instead, I grabbed the nearest stack of books and shelved them with too much force, each title landing like a punch.Jingle All the Way.A Cozy Alpine Christmas.The Twelve Dates of December.The cheer on the covers mocked me.
Marmalade wandered over, brushing against my leg with a questioning meow. I reached down and absently scratched behind his ears, grounding myself in the soft vibration of his purring.
“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” I whispered, voice cracking.
I swallowed hard and blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall. Not now. Not for him.
He didn’t get to ruin this.
Not my night. Not my store. Not me.
With a deep breath, I stood a little straighter and went back to decorating, one light at a time, rebuilding what he tried to shake loose.
I had barely finished shelving the last of the books when the bell over the door chimed again. My heart jolted, nerves still frayed. I glanced up, expecting another wave of stress—maybe Leo again, doubling back for some final dig.
But it was Cavil.
He stepped through the door like the storm hadn’t touched him, snow clinging to his boots, jacket unzipped. His eyes scanned the room once—lights, garlands, books—before settling on me. He didn’t say anything right away. Just looked.
My spine straightened without meaning to.
“You good?” he asked finally, voice low, almost indifferent. But not quite.
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… setting up.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t nod. Just watched me for a beat longer than comfortable, like he was inventorying damage.
His gaze flicked toward the back, toward the door Leo had slipped through. I could feel it—his suspicion, the way the silence between us thickened.
“Heard he stopped by.” His tone was neutral. Practiced. Too careful to be casual.
I swallowed, pretending to dust glitter off my fingers. “Mmhmm. Just checking in.”
Cavil’s jaw ticked. He leaned a hip against the counter like it was habit, arms crossing over his chest, but I could see the tension winding up his posture. He didn’t press, not with questions. That wasn’t his way.
Still, I felt picked apart.
“I said I’m fine,” I tried again, softer this time.
“Didn’t say you weren’t.”
I busied myself with a crooked stack of holiday romances.Silent Night, Second Chances.Merry and Bright.I adjusted the covers until they lined up just so.
Marmalade padded between us, purring like he didn’t feel the strain in the air.
“I’ve got this,” I said, more to myself than to him.
Cavil didn’t argue. Didn’t reassure me either. Just watched for a few seconds longer, then pushed off the counter and stepped closer—close enough to feel, not close enough to touch.
“I’ll hang around,” he said, voice quieter now. “In case he forgets his manners.”
He didn’t wait for permission. Just walked over to the front display and started straightening a crooked sign, like that had been his plan all along.
And somehow, that simple gesture—his presence, silent and steady—felt like the first deep breath I’d taken since Leo walked in.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
Cavil didn’t answer. He just stayed.
