19. Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Bella
M y hand trembled as I pushed open the guesthouse door, Devon's words still ringing in my ears. I stumbled inside, my legs feeling like they were made of jello. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Part of me wanted to run back outside and throw myself into Devon's arms. The other part wanted to barricade the door and never see his stupidly handsome, apologetic face again.
"Focus on the interview, Bella," I muttered, pressing my palms against my eyes. But the question kept swirling in my mind: Could I forgive him? Should I?
A blur of curls and excitement barreled towards me. Sophie. My eyes widened in surprise and relief. “Sophie? What are you—“
She engulfed me in a tight hug, nearly knocking me off balance. “Surprise! Did you think I’d miss this?”
I laughed, genuinely happy to see her. “I thought you were stuck in the city with that big client meeting?”
Sophie waved her hand dismissively. “Please, some things are more important than work. Like watching my best friend become a star.”
She brandished her phone like a magic wand, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “This is going to be epic. The blog is going to explode when people see what you’ve done with this place.”
I snorted, grateful for her enthusiasm, even as butterflies performed acrobatics in my stomach. “Let’s hope they explode in a good way and not a ‘what was she thinking?’ way.”
“Please,” Sophie rolled her eyes and scrunched her nose. “You could decorate a cardboard box and make it look like a spread in Better Homes and Gardens.”
My gaze drifted around the room, taking in the transformation. It was like stepping into a Christmas card come to life. Garlands draped elegantly along the staircase, twinkling lights cast a warm glow over everything, and the scent of fresh pine filled the air.
Something caught my eye: a soft glow atop the Christmas tree in the corner. My breath hitched, and I took an unconscious step forward, drawn by the familiar silhouette.
“Is that...?” The words caught in my throat, a lump forming that threatened to choke me.
Sophie nodded, her expression softening. “Devon found it in the attic and restored it. I had to talk him through. It was hilarious.”
The angel. Memories flooded back. It was junior year, and Devon invited me over to help decorate. It was a big deal for his mom, who insisted on Devon placing it on top of the tree. Later, he confided that it was secretly one of his favorite parts of the holiday.
My heart ached at the sight of it. First the sleigh, now this. How could I not believe he had changed? That he was embracing the past and...
I blinked rapidly, willing away the tears that threatened to spill. There would be time to process all this later. Right now, I have a job to do.
The camera crew swarmed around me like tinsel-hungry elves, their equipment glinting in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. I laughed nervously, trying to ignore the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach.
The lead interviewer gestured for me to stand near the tree. “Okay, Bella, we’re going to frame you right here. Perfect! Now, tell us how you ended up transforming this guesthouse instead of the lodge.”
I took a deep breath, my fingers instinctively reaching up to twirl a loose strand of hair. “Well, it was quite the adventure. I was driving through a blizzard, determined to reach the lodge when my car slid off the road and hit a tree. There I was, stranded in the middle of nowhere when I remembered that Devon’s guesthouse was nearby. For those who don’t know, we dated in high school.”
I chuckled, remembering that night. “I trudged through the snow with my dog and suitcase, probably looking like a walking snowman. I technically didn’t have permission to stay, but I remembered where the spare key was. I was so exhausted I fell asleep almost instantly. The next morning, Devon arrives, looking about as thrilled to see me as a cat in a bathtub.”
The crew laughed, and I found myself relaxing. “But you know what? This place isn’t just a guesthouse—it’s a piece of history. Devon’s great-grandfather built it, and it used to be a bed and breakfast. I wanted to honor that legacy in my decorations.”
I moved closer to the tree, my fingers brushing over a delicate glass ornament. “See this? It’s been in the Montgomery family for generations. And the tree itself has a funny story. I was complaining about not having a tree to decorate, and the next thing I know, Devon’s out there wielding an axe like some Paul Bunyan wannabe.”
My gaze drifted around the room, taking in the twinkling lights and carefully curated decorations. “We found this old journal in the attic, filled with stories of love and wishes from past guests. It was like a window into the soul of this place. I wanted to reflect those stories in the decorations. Each piece here tells a tale—of hope, joy, love found and cherished.”
As I spoke, I wondered if I was describing the guesthouse or my heart.
I ran my fingers along the mantle, feeling the smooth wood beneath my touch. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with this place the way I have,” I admitted, my voice catching slightly. “There’s so much history here... so much love.”
I caught Sophie’s knowing smile out of the corner of my eye. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head slightly. Leave it to Sophie to read between the lines.
The camera crew shuffled around, repositioning lights and adjusting angles. I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. This was my moment, my chance to showcase my passion. So why did my mind keep drifting back to Devon?
“Bella,” the interviewer’s voice snapped me back to attention. “Can you tell us about your creative process? How did you blend the old with the new?”
I nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Of course! It was all about finding balance.” I moved towards a side table, picking up an antique silver picture frame that now housed a modern, minimalist Christmas print. “I wanted to honor the guesthouse’s past while bringing it into the present… ”
The creak of the door cut off my sentence. My heart stumbled as Devon stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the frame. Our eyes locked across the room, and suddenly, the cameras, crew, and even Sophie faded. It was like my eyes could see his soul. The hurt, the love, the regret. His eyes pleaded with me to forgive him.
“And speaking of love found,” I heard myself say, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of our conversation outside pressed on my chest, but as I took in everything around me—the restored angel, the vintage ornaments, the warmth he’d poured into every detail—I felt a shift deep within.
It was like my feet had a mind of their own as they pushed me toward him. The floorboards creaked softly beneath my steps, each one bringing me closer to the truth I’d been dancing around.
“Devon,” I started, my voice trembling slightly. I cleared my throat, willing strength into my words. “I know I said I needed time, but...” I gestured around us at the love woven into every corner of this room. “You’ve shown me everything I need to know.”
My heart raced, but I pushed on. “I never stopped loving you. Even after everything that’s happened, I can’t ignore what we have.” I met his gaze steadily despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “I want that second chance. With you. With us.”
The room held its breath. Devon’s eyes widened, a mix of hope and disbelief warring on his face. I waited, my heart in my throat, for his response.
“Bella, I—“ Devon’s voice cracked with emotion. In two quick strides, he crossed the room and swept me into his arms. “I’m so glad. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”
He lifted me off my feet, spinning us around. The world blurred, and all I could focus on was the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his arms around me. When he set me down, his hands cupped my face, his thumbs gently brushing my cheeks.
“I love you,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine.
The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with promise. As we pulled apart, I became aware of the cheers and applause erupting around us. Sophie’s excited squeal cut through the noise, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
The interviewer stepped forward, her smile warm and knowing. “Well, Bella, I think that’s a wrap. This is going to be quite the story.”
I opened my mouth to thank her, but Devon’s hand shot up, halting everyone in their tracks.
“Wait,” he said, his voice low but firm. The mischievous glint in his eyes made my pulse quicken. What was he up to? “There’s one more thing.”
Devon’s gaze met mine, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in those blue depths. “Could everyone follow us outside to the wishing tree?”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The wishing tree? What could he possibly have planned? As the crew began to pack up their equipment and the townspeople started to file out, I caught Sophie’s knowing grin. She winked at me before turning to usher everyone outside.
Devon held out his hand, and I took it without hesitation, relishing the warmth of his touch. “Devon Montgomery,” I said, unable to keep the amused suspicion from my voice, “what are you plotting?”
He simply smiled, that irresistible half-smirk that never failed to make my heart skip a beat. “You’ll see,” he murmured, leading me towards the door. “Trust me, Bells. This is just the beginning.”
The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks as we stepped outside, the wishing tree’s twinkling lights casting a magical glow over the gathered crowd. Devon’s hand tightened around mine, and I could feel a slight tremor in his fingers. Whatever he had planned, it was clear he was nervous.
“This is probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” Devon admitted his grin a mix of excitement and apprehension. “And trust me, I’ve done some crazy stuff.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the wild stunts he’d pulled over the years. “Crazier than that time you built a ski jump off the guesthouse roof and nearly gave your mom a heart attack?”
“Way crazier,” he chuckled, his eyes softening as they met mine.
My heart swelled with affection, and I found myself falling even harder for this complex, sometimes brooding man who was now allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of everyone.
Devon took a deep breath, his free hand moving to his pocket. “Bella, I—“
He paused, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a small object. My breath caught as I recognized the hand-carved snowflake ornament I had seen at the farmer’s market. He must have bought it when I wasn’t looking.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. The usual gruffness in his tone had given way to something raw and sincere. “But I do have this. It symbolizes everything we’ve been through and everything I want to build with you.”
My mind raced, trying to process what was happening. Was he really doing what I thought he was doing? Here? Now? In front of everyone? Live?
My heart pounded as Devon slowly lowered himself to one knee, the snowflake ornament held delicately between his fingers. The wishing tree glowed behind him, casting a soft, ethereal light across his ruggedly handsome features.
"Bella," he began, his deep blue eyes locking with mine. His voice was barely above a whisper, full of love and vulnerability. "Do you remember that morning at the wishing tree when we filmed for your blog?"
I nodded, trying to blink back the tears of happiness trying to escape.
"What I didn't tell you then was that I wrote your name on my ornament. You were my wish, Bells." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "You've already made that wish come true by being here with me, but now I have one more to make." He held up the snowflake ornament, his hand trembling slightly. "Bella Harper, will you marry me?"
Time seemed to stand still, and all I could see was Devon—the boy I’d fallen for all those years ago and the man I’d fallen for all over again. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
“Yes,” I managed to whisper, my voice trembling with emotion.
Devon’s face broke into a radiant smile, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and sent my heart soaring. He stood up, and I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest.
“I love you,” I murmured against his sweater, my voice muffled but sincere.
“I love you too, Bells,” he replied, his lips brushing against my ear.
We pulled apart, both of us grinning like teenagers. Devon took my hand, and together we approached the wishing tree. As we hung the snowflake ornament on a branch, securing it among the twinkling lights and shimmering decorations, I couldn’t help but feel like we were sealing our future right here in Serenity Falls, where our story had come full circle.
The crew, townspeople, and Sophie erupted into cheers and applause. I turned to see Sophie bouncing on her toes, her phone held high as she captured the moment. Tears streamed down her face even as she beamed with joy.
“Did you get all that?” I called out to her, laughing through my own happy tears.
Sophie gave me a thumbs up, her voice choked with emotion. “Every second! This is going to make such an amazing blog post!”
I rolled my eyes affectionately. Leave it to Sophie to think about work at a time like this. But I wouldn’t have her any other way.
Soft flakes of snow began to fall around us, dusting Devon’s dark hair and settling on my eyelashes. It was like something out of a fairytale—the perfect ending to a perfect moment.
“You know,” Devon said, pulling me close again, “I think we just made a pretty good wish come true.”
I smiled up at him, feeling happier than I ever thought possible. “The best wish of all.”