15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Bella
S unlight danced across my eyelids, coaxing me awake. I stretched languidly, my fingers brushing against the soft green and red striped comforter. For a moment, I just lay there, soaking in the warmth and coziness of the guest room. It was amazing how much new bedding, a few pictures, and some elbow grease could transform a place.
My gaze drifted to the wreath on the dresser that Devon and I had crafted last night. It was a beautiful tangle of pine branches with twinkling lights and two candy canes in the center. We’d hang it on the front gate today, the perfect finishing touch to welcome the magazine crew.
I hopped out of bed, energy thrumming through my veins. So much to do! DIY projects, final touches in the living room, last-minute staging in the kitchen...
Catching my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but laugh. My messy bun looked more like a bird’s nest, and my flannel pajamas were far from the put-together blogger image I usually projected.
“Maybe I should add getting dressed to that list,” I mused, giving Maple a conspiratorial wink. She thumped her tail in response, clearly approving of my stellar fashion choices.
I pulled on my favorite pair of work jeans and a cozy sweater, then headed downstairs, Maple trotting at my heals. The transformation of the Montgomery Guesthouse took my breath away all over again. Gone was the tired, dated decor. In its place was a warm, inviting atmosphere that beautifully blended modern and traditional elements.
The scent of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen, and my heart did a little flip. Devon. I rounded the corner to find him pouring two steaming mugs, his hair adorably mussed from sleep.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Thought you might need some fuel for all the decorating madness you have planned.”
I accepted the mug gratefully, our fingers brushing. “My hero,” I teased, taking a sip. “Mmm, perfect. How’d I get so lucky to have my own personal barista?”
Devon’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Just doing my part to keep the magic flowing. Can’t have our resident elf running on empty, can we?”
A comfortable silence settled between us as we sipped our coffee, stealing glances over the rims of our mugs. It felt so familiar, like slipping on a favorite sweater I’d forgotten I owned.
“So,” Devon said, setting down his mug. “What’s first on the agenda, boss?”
I grinned, excitement bubbling up again. “Well, I thought we could start by hanging that wreath we made. It’ll look perfect on the front gate.”
Devon nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Lead the way.”
We put on our coats and gloves before going outside to brave the morning chill. As we stepped outside, our breath fogged in the crisp air—the wreath nestled in my arms, a cheerful promise of the day ahead. Maple bounded out the door, probably off to chase a squirrel.
“Here, let me help,” Devon offered, taking the wreath as we approached the gate. His strong hands secured it while I gave directions.
“A little to the left... no, my left... perfect!”
I stepped back to admire our handiwork, and Devon came to stand beside me. Without thinking, I leaned into him, his arm wrapping around my shoulders.
“It looks amazing,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.
I tilted my face up to look at him, my heart skipping a beat at the tenderness in his eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
A notification chimed from my pocket, shattering the moment. I reluctantly pulled away, fishing out my phone.
“Probably Sophie with last-minute interview prep,” I said, unlocking the screen. But the name that popped up made my stomach drop.
Madison Drake.
My finger hovered over her latest blog post, a sense of unease creeping up my spine. The headline glared at me: “Exposed: The Real Reason Behind the Montgomery Guesthouse Transformation.”
“Bella?” Devon’s voice sounded far away. “Everything okay?”
I barely heard him, my eyes fixed on the screen as I tapped the link. Each word I read felt like a punch to the gut.
Madison’s post laid out a narrative that shattered my heart: Devon’s supposed plan to sell the guesthouse, using my blog to boost its profile and value. She even mentioned a real estate listing, citing “insider sources.”
My vision blurred as I scrolled through the post, each word a dagger to my heart. I replayed our recent moments together—his soft touch as we decorated the tree, the warmth in his eyes during our snowball fight, and the tenderness of our kiss beneath the wishing tree. Had it all been a lie?
“Bella?” Devon’s hand on my shoulder made me flinch. “What’s wrong?”
I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. “How could you?” My voice cracked. “Was any of this real, Devon? Or was I just... just a pawn in your grand plan?”
Confusion clouded his features. “What are you talking about?”
I thrust my phone at him, my hands shaking. “Madison’s blog. She has proof that you plan to sell the guesthouse. That you’ve been using me—us—to boost its value.”
Devon’s sharp intake of breath confirmed my worst fears.
“No, Bella, it’s not—“
“Don’t.” I held up a hand, finally meeting his gaze. The guilt in his eyes made me want to vomit. “Just... don’t.”
I scrolled down to the comments section and read them aloud. Each one a fresh blow.
“Bet she was in on it the whole time.”
“Anything for views, right?’”
“Poor girl’s too naive to see she’s being played.”
Devon reached for me. “Bella, please–”
I jerked away, anger and humiliation warring within me. “They think our kiss at the wishing tree was staged, Devon. Staged! For publicity!”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I hated how vulnerable I felt. “Was that your idea, too? Make it look good for the cameras?”
“Of course not!” Devon’s face paled. “Bella, you have to believe me. It’s not what you think.”
But as I stared at him, all I could see was the betrayal. The man I thought I knew—the one I’d started to fall for all over again—suddenly felt like a stranger.
I yelled for Maple and then stormed back into the house, my phone clutched in a white-knuckled grip. A cocktail of rage and heartbreak fueled each step. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I marched down the hallway toward the stairs, my mind a whirlwind of accusations and disbelief.
Devon followed close behind, his footsteps heavy with urgency. “Bella, please, let me explain–”
I whirled to face him, my voice sharp. “Explain what, exactly? How you used me to boost your property value? How you let me fall for you all over again when it was just... just business?”
Devon’s face crumpled. “It wasn’t like that. Yes, I had planned to sell the guesthouse, but everything changed once we reconnected. My feelings changed.”
His words were drowned out by the roaring in my ears, the rush of blood and betrayal drowning out any attempt at explanation.
Devon’s eyes were pleading as he took a step towards me. “I was going to tell you, but I was scared of losing you again.”
I flinched away from his reach, wrapping my arms around myself. The warmth I’d felt in his presence just moments ago had turned to ice in my veins. “But you didn’t,” I snapped, each word breaking my heart a little more.
Devon’s shoulders slumped, his usual confident posture crumbling before my eyes. “Bella, please—“
I hugged myself tightly, trying to hold the pieces of my breaking heart together. “I’m leaving.”
Devon’s face crumpled, but I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. I turned on my heel and headed for the guest room.
My hands shook as I yanked open drawers, shoving clothes haphazardly into my suitcase. The cheerful Christmas sweater I’d planned to wear for the interview now felt like a joke. I shoved it in the suitcase.
“Bella, please,” Devon’s voice drifted from the doorway. “Can we talk about this?”
I kept my back to him, trying to stop the tears from falling. “There’s nothing left to say.”
I zipped the suitcase and wiped away the tears. I might be hurt, but I was still a professional. “I’ll stay at my parents’ house until the interview. I’ll be here for that,” I said, finally turning to face him. “But after that, I’m done. I’m going back to the city. For good.”
I grabbed my bag and whistled for Maple. She trotted over, her tail low and ears drooping as if she sensed the tension in the air. I brushed past Devon without meeting his gaze, Maple following close at my heels.
As I walked out, I refused to look back, knowing my resolve might crumble if I saw his heartbroken expression.
The crisp winter air hit me as I stepped outside and took a deep breath. The scent of pine and snow that had once filled me with joy now left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I helped Maple into the car, her worried brown eyes watching me as I tossed my bag in the back seat. As I backed out of the driveway, I watched Devon grow smaller in my rearview mirror. Questions swirled in my mind as I drove away from the man I loved, the future I thought we were building, and into an uncertain tomorrow.
The familiar winding road to my parents’ house blurred before my eyes as tears threatened to spill over. I blinked them back furiously, determined to stay focused on the road and not on the ache in my chest.
“Get it together, Bella,” I muttered, my fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel.
Maple whined softly from the passenger seat, resting her head on my thigh. I reached over to scratch behind her ears, grateful for her comforting presence. “I know, girl. I’m upset, too.”
My phone buzzed insistently from my bag. Devon’s name flashed on the screen, and I felt a pang of longing mixed with hurt. I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
Instead, I found myself replaying our moments together in my mind. The way Devon’s eyes crinkled when he laughed at my crazy blog ideas, the bowling date…
“Stop it,” I chided myself out loud. “He lied to you. He was going to use you.”
But even as I said the words, doubt crept in. The pain in Devon’s eyes when I confronted him... it seemed so real. Could I have misunderstood?
No. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I needed to focus on what I could control. The interview. My career. That’s what mattered now.
I took a deep breath as I approached the familiar turnoff to my parents’ street. “You’ve got this, Bella,” I whispered, trying to summon the confidence I usually felt. “One step at a time.”
Maple nuzzled my hand as if offering her support. I managed a small smile, scratching under her chin. “At least I’ve got you, right girl?”
But as I parked in front of my childhood home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was leaving a piece of my heart back at the guesthouse with Devon.