Page 129 of Mistletoe All the Way

“I hope so,” she says, then swallows, and says, “and you proved to your grandfather that you deserve the farm. I know he’ll choose you.”

I’m not so sure. But I am sure it won’t be Stephen, and that has to count for something. And with Eloise’s lovely, mismatched eyes edged with sadness, it’s hard to feel hope about anything. “I don’t know.”

“He will,” she says, insistent and strong. “The fact that you’re going home to help the clinic shows how you value your word and your work.”

I wince. “I hate leaving you. I feel terrible after I promised—”

“It’s okay. You were always leaving anyway. And hey, this makes goodbye easier, doesn’t it?” she says with a bigger smile, and wow, that’s bright and chipper for sure. More than I’d expected.

Wait.

I study her face.

Have I been reading her wrong? Was I the only one who was thinking we might try something for real someday? “I suppose,” I say, a door inside me shutting somewhere.

She pats my chest. “Now we don’t need to have a long goodbye or an awkward conversation.”

My brain stalls, replays her words, parses them out. Was she… not thinking the same thing I was thinking with that maybe-next-year promise?

The late-night promise you asked for while she was falling asleep?

Shit. Maybe she said that yes as she was drifting off. As she was dreaming. Maybe I was the only one thinking we could figure something out.

She did make it clear that night at my brother’s house how she feels about long-distance, especially since she was on the receiving end of heartbreak.

It’s hard not to be in the same place.

My words, but she echoed them. And she never promised me more. We were always only ever supposed to be a holiday romance.

And now I’m the one cutting the holidays short.

I let out a steadying breath. If this is goodbye, I ought to at least make it matter. I tuck a finger under her chin and look her in the eyes. “You do make me happy,” I reiterate. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”

Her smile is soft and sad. “I’ll miss you too.”

Then I cover her mouth with mine and I kiss her goodbye before I say something stupid like I fell in love with you as you tried to turn me into Mr. Holiday.

Like that could happen to a guy like me.

Only after I say goodbye, get in the truck, and hit the road do I know, deep in my soul, that it did.

43 THE CARNAGE OF THE TREE

Eloise

Look on the bright side, I tell myself.

The glass isn’t simply half full. It’s pouring over. It’s December twenty-third, the day the world officially shuts down for Christmas break, yet there’s a brand-new email from an event planner a few towns over wanting to chat with me about doing socials for some upcoming lunches, events, and parties.

I write back immediately, telling her I’d love to set up a meeting.

Then I go into the bathroom and wipe the tears off. I touch up my concealer, add some powder, and swipe on mascara.

There. No one will know I cried a couple rivers. Maybe even a lake. I’m ready for the Mr. Holiday announcement.

Because of course I still have to go.

Even though the last thing this jolly wants to do is stand in the town square, smile, and then clap as a winner is crowned, potentially a winner who’s not even here.