Chapter 3 Celeste
CELESTE
The storm had passed by morning, leaving Hollyridge covered in a thick, glittering layer of snow. Celeste Winters stood at the window of the guest house, her arms crossed as she stared out at the pristine landscape.
Her plan had been simple: stay the night, collect herself, and leave before anyone had a chance to reel her into this insufferably quaint town’s holiday madness. But nature had other ideas.
The roads were still a mess, and despite her protests, Ivy had insisted it wouldn’t be safe to leave just yet. Celeste had no choice but to accept the delay with as much grace as she could muster, though it did little to settle her frustration.
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, watching as small groups of townsfolk bundled up in scarves and mittens made their way toward the town square. A few children ran by, their laughter cutting through the still morning air. A festival of all things. Christmas cheer at its most nauseating.
A light knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
Celeste opened it to find Ivy standing there, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, holding a steaming mug of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed beans mixed with the faint aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg.
“I thought you might need this,” Ivy said, her voice gentle, as if sensing the storm still brewing inside Celeste.
“Thank you,” Celeste said, taking the mug, though the warmth did little to thaw the icy wall she kept between them. She blew on the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip.
Ivy broke the silence. “I know you’re anxious to leave, but the roads are still pretty dangerous.
” She shifted slightly, glancing over her shoulder toward the main house.
“There’s a festival today in the town square.
Ellie’s been talking about it for weeks.
It’s kind of the town’s big event before Christmas.
You’re welcome to come along if you want. ”
Celeste raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly in the mood for holiday festivities.”
“I figured as much,” Ivy said and smiled. “But…it’s better than sitting here alone, staring out at the snow. Besides, it’ll be good for Ellie to have someone else around.”
Celeste hesitated. The last thing she needed was to get further involved with this town or its people. But the quiet vulnerability in Ivy’s voice tugged at something deep inside her—something she wasn’t prepared to confront.
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
Celeste closed the door before Ivy could say anything more.
–
The town square was buzzing with life, an explosion of color and warmth against a stark-white backdrop of snow-covered streets, and Celeste regretted her decision to tag along within minutes of arriving.
Ivy had convinced her, in that quiet, persistent way of hers, to join her and Ellie to the festival.
The child had been ecstatic, skipping along the icy pavement, tugging at her mother’s hand with barely contained eager excitement.
Now, Celeste found herself standing awkwardly at the edge of the festivities, watching as townspeople milled around, their faces glowing with joy and holiday spirit.
Booths lined the square, vendors selling everything from hand-knitted scarves to homemade fudge, and in the center stood a massive, regal Christmas tree, its branches heavy with ornaments, tinsel, and twinkling lights.
Ellie pulled Ivy toward a booth where children were decorating gingerbread houses, their tiny fingers dusted with sugar and icing.
Ivy laughed as Ellie excitedly picked out her assorted candy decorations, her enthusiasm infectious.
Celeste stood off on the sidelines, her arms crossed, feeling every bit the outsider.
“Come on, Ms. Winters! You’ve got to try this!” Ellie called out, holding up a candy cane. Her wide eyes sparkled with the same brightness as the shimmering lights around them.
Celeste forced an unconvincing smile. “I think I’ll pass.”
Ivy shot her a look—one that was equal parts understanding and exasperation. “You can’t just stand there all day. Why don’t you help us with the gingerbread house?” Her face made it clear it wasn’t really a question.
Celeste hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to get her hands sticky with icing and gumdrops, but the way Ellie beamed at her made it hard to refuse. With a sigh, she stepped forward, picking up a piece of candy and placing it awkwardly on the roof of the gingerbread house.
“There,” Celeste said, stepping back, as if that single gesture absolved her from any future participation.
“Nice work,” Ivy teased, laughing lightly. “You’re a natural.”
“Hardly,” Celeste muttered as she wiped her fingers on a napkin.
But despite herself, she found her gaze drifting back to Ivy.
The woman had a way of moving through her world that was both effortless and deeply grounded, like she belonged in every moment, in every interaction.
It was unsettling to Celeste, whose entire life had been about control, precision, and keeping people at arm’s length.
Later that afternoon, the three of them walked around the market.
The festive atmosphere was inescapable, but even Celeste couldn’t deny the charm of it all.
The air was crisp, and the scent of pine and wood smoke mingled with the sweetness of hot cocoa.
Ellie darted ahead, chasing after a small group of children who were throwing snowballs near the skating rink.
“She’s got a lot of energy,” Celeste said, watching Ellie with a mixture of amusement and envy.
“She does, even for a six year old,” Ivy agreed. “Especially during the holidays. It’s been a little overwhelming this year, but I try to make it special for her.”
Celeste nodded, unsure of what to say. Family wasn’t a topic she ventured into often, and the holiday season had always felt more like a disruption to her schedule than anything else.
As they continued walking, Ivy stopped at a booth selling Christmas ornaments. She picked up a delicate glass star, turning it over in her hands. “I get one of these every year,” she said softly. “It’s a little tradition Ellie and I have. This year’s star will be for you.”
Celeste blinked, caught off guard. “For me?”
Ivy smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “A reminder of your time here in Hollyridge. Whether you like it or not.”
Celeste found herself at a loss for words. The gesture was simple, but something about it left her feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been in years.
Before she could respond, Ellie came bounding back, breathless and red-cheeked from the cold. “Can we go ice skating, Mommy? Please?”
Ivy glanced at Celeste, her eyebrows raised. “What do you think? Up for a little skating?”
“I haven’t been on ice skates since I was a child,” Celeste admitted. “And I wasn’t particularly good at it then.”
“Well, there’s no time like the present,” Ivy said, grinning.
Against her better judgment, Celeste found herself agreeing and getting dragged toward the outdoor rink. As they laced up their skates and stepped onto the ice, she wobbled awkwardly, clutching the railing for balance. Ellie, on the other hand, glided effortlessly, giggling as she twirled and spun.
Ivy skated beside Celeste, offering her hand. “Relax. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Celeste hesitated, but eventually took Ivy’s hand. As they moved slowly across the ice, the chill of the air biting at her cheeks, she felt something shift inside her. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, Celeste felt…at ease.
After several tentative laps, Ivy suggested they take a break. They found a bench near the rink, and Ellie, still bursting with energy, went off to join a group of kids building a snowman.
Celeste’s heart raced as she caught her breath, feeling a lightness she hadn’t expected. “I’m surprised I didn’t fall more,” she said, trying to mask her vulnerability.
Ivy chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling. “You did great. I’m proud of you for trying.”
Celeste felt heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s just skating,” she murmured, brushing it off.
But Ivy’s gaze was steady, and Celeste could sense an unspoken connection between them, something electric.
Just as she was about to look away, their hands brushed again, this time lingering.
The warmth radiating from Ivy’s touch sent a shiver down Celeste’s spine, and in that moment, everything shifted.
Before she could process what was happening, Celeste leaned in, capturing Ivy’s soft lips in a brief, heated kiss. It was both thrilling and terrifying, a spark of something new igniting in her chest. But as quickly as it began, she pulled away, confusion clouding her thoughts.
“I-I shouldn’t have done that,” Celeste stammered, her breath catching in her throat.
Ivy’s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in her eyes. “Celeste…”
“I need to think,” Celeste interrupted, her heart racing as she turned away, trying to push the moment aside. But the warmth from Ivy’s lips lingered, an undeniable reality that she couldn’t ignore.
As Ellie returned, oblivious to the tension, Celeste knew she had to confront her feelings—whatever they were—before she completely lost herself.