Chapter 28
JIYA
My second Christmas in Cowichan Bay turned out to be surprisingly eventful.
Elle and her family came over a couple of days before Christmas.
It felt comforting to have someone from my old life sitting across from me again.
While we chatted in the living room, she updated me about everything happening back in the city.
I listened while feeding Emma, nodding along as Elle spoke about mutual acquaintances and neighbourhood gossip.
“How’s Patty doing?” I asked.
“Patty is fine,” Elle replied. “I try to message her at least two or three times a month. You’re the only topic of conversation.” She sighed and shook her head slightly. “It kills me that I can’t tell her how or where you are.”
“I know,” I said, nodding slowly. A wave of guilt washed through me. “I’m sorry. I’ll visit her once my training is done.”
Jack and Maureen called and invited me over for Christmas dinner. When they heard that Elle and her family were visiting, they immediately extended the invitation to them as well. That evening, we all headed to the Bortelini house, with the dining table overflowing with food and conversation.
Cole joined us later before heading over to his brother’s place.
Sitting around the table that night, surrounded by people who had become my chosen family, I felt a deep sense of gratitude.
Elle and her family left two days after Christmas.
Later that same day, Cole stopped by with his brother and invited me to come over for New Year’s Eve at Liam’s house.
I accepted.
On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, I drove down to Liam’s house with Geeta, Lucas, and Emma.
The moment we arrived, I couldn’t help staring at the place.
His house was enormous, with large windows in almost every room offering sweeping views of the ocean and the island beyond.
The scenery alone made the entire place feel almost unreal.
After dinner, I slipped into the kitchen to refill my glass with water.
Liam was there, leaning casually against the counter.
“I’m so glad you joined us for the New Year, Jiya,” he said.
“I’m surprised you invited me after my first interaction with you,” I replied honestly.
“How could I not?” he said, looking at me seriously for a moment. “You gave me my brother back. I am ever grateful to you.” His expression softened. “I hope to see more of you around.”
I smiled politely, though I lifted my hands slightly in a small shrug.
“I’m not sure about seeing me more,” I said. “My schedule is pretty packed with kids, training, and the restaurant.” I paused before adding sincerely, “But I’m happy that you and Cole have become close again.”
I knew how much Cole had missed his brother. The change in him was obvious. The first time he mentioned Liam, there had been sadness and regret in his eyes, but now, watching the brothers interact, I could see how much lighter he seemed. Cole laughed more easily. He looked more open, freer somehow.
He was also an amazing uncle.
The way he played with his niece and nephew reminded me of someone else.
Caleb.
They were both wonderful with children.
Even with mine.
The similarities between them were striking.
It astounded me—and frightened me. I knew exactly where those thoughts could lead if I allowed them to grow.
And I had already made a promise to myself.
I would not go down that road again.
The New Year was going to mean something different for me.
It was going to be about rebuilding my life and protecting my heart.
No more relationships.
Especially not with the man I had borrowed money from.
At midnight, the fireworks began lighting up the sky.
From the terrace of Liam’s house, we could see the island’s skyline glowing against the night.
Bursts of colour exploded above us, their reflections rippling across the water like scattered jewels—red, gold, and blue streaking through the darkness.
Everyone gathered outside.
I held Emma in my arms, her small body warm against my chest, while Cole stood beside me with Lucas perched comfortably against his side.
Cole casually draped his arm over my shoulder.
The gesture surprised me.
The warmth from his body seeped through the thin fabric of my sweater, stealing my breath for a fraction of a second. His touch was neither intrusive nor hesitant. It felt natural.
I turned my head and looked at him.
He was already looking at me.
His gaze was more intense than usual, and the noise of the fireworks and laughter drowned out. The bright explosions in the sky reflected faintly in his eyes, and there was something thoughtful in his expression.
My heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.
“Happy New Year,” he said softly.
His voice wrapped around the words, and the way he said them felt more personal than the hundreds of identical greetings echoing across the terrace, as if the new year had suddenly become something shared rather than something passing.
A mix of comfort and unease bloomed inside me like two seasons colliding at once.
A part of me wanted to lean into the pull of that moment.
Another part of me reminded me very firmly that this was precisely what I had sworn to avoid.
So why did it feel so hard to pull away?
Over the following weeks, I kept myself busy with the restaurant.
One of my new ideas was posting flyers around Cowichan Bay and neighbouring towns, inviting local artists to perform.
To my surprise, the response was incredible.
Singers and musicians began reaching out, excited about the opportunity, and soon every weekend someone performed in a cozy corner of the restaurant, their music filling the space while customers enjoyed their meals.
One afternoon at the end of January, Jack and I were sitting in the office reviewing paperwork when he casually looked up from his notes.
“Did you see his girlfriend?” he asked.
I paused, rubbing my chin as I glanced at him. “Whose?”
“Cole’s.”
My head snapped up. “When did that happen?”
Ever since the night of the fireworks on New Year’s Eve, I had been quietly conflicted about my feelings.
I had convinced myself the moment—him standing close, his arm around my shoulder, the way he had looked into my eyes while wishing me a happy New Year—had simply been the wine, a harmless blur of celebration and alcohol.
And when he never mentioned it again, I told myself that was proof.
It had definitely been the wine.
Girls constantly threw themselves at him. I had seen it when we met for coffee in the city or spent time at the park with the children. There was something about his quiet confidence and modest way of carrying himself that made him even more attractive.
“A couple of days ago,” Jack replied. “He said he felt ready to move on with his life. I don’t think that girl was the right choice, but I agree with the moving on part.”
I forced a small smile.
Inside, however, something burned in my chest.
It made no sense.
I wasn’t dating Cole.
I was his friend.
He was free to date, to live his life however he wanted.
He was not mine.
And I was not his.
Yet a strange possessiveness snuck into my thoughts, stubborn and unwelcome. I couldn’t understand where it came from or why it bothered me so much.
Annoyed with myself, I shook my head and pushed the feeling away.
My fingers instinctively reached for the infinity ring resting against my chest, and I began to twirl it slowly between them.
The ring was a reminder not to get attached. Not to fall in love again, and to keep my focus on my children and my business. Proof that it was safer to be alone.