9. Violet
My favorite time of year has never felt so dismal without my best friend. Despite what Ethan said about nothing changing with this fake engagement, I feel like my entire world has been turned upside down.
As we inch closer to the holiday, I wonder if I’m being excluded from the Bennets’ annual feast, but I’m too embarrassed to ask.
Inevitably, I run into Mr. Bennet at the grocery store one afternoon after work as a storm wafts in from the east. It feels like half the town is here, stocking up on supplies for the snow, when I turn the corner and bump into the towering but familiar frame.
“Violet!” Mr. Bennet declares, adjusting his glasses when he sees me. “I haven’t seen much of you lately. Is everything all right?”
I hardly know how to respond to that. Has Ethan not told his father the truth about our engagement?
Nervously, I stick my hands in my pockets, hoping he doesn’t notice that I’m not wearing my ring. “Everything is fine, Mr. Bennet.”
“Will we still see you at Christmas?” he presses. “Mrs. Bennet is making her turducken again this year.”
I manage a weak smile and nod. “That sounds good,” I reply, stepping out of the way as a couple hurries through the aisle. “Just tell me what you want me to bring.”
“Just yourself as always, honey,” he says, his brow knitting as if he can tell there’s something up with the way I’m acting. “You sure you’re all right?”
I nod again and turn to gesture out the window at the blossoming storm. “I just want to get home before it gets too bad out there.”
“Okay.” He lets me leave, but I can feel his eyes on me as I push my cart toward the front of the store and cash out my purchases, my heart sinking.
Snowflakes fall over my face when I load up the trunk of the car and make my way into the driver’s side, inching my way out of the parking spot across from the grocery store. All the lights on Main Street are fully ablaze, guiding me through the thick of snow as I maneuver the vehicle onto the street.
The windshield wipers flip flop back and forth as I try to see through the snow, the visibility lessening, and my phone rings through the Bluetooth. I consider ignoring it when I realize it’s my client—the one who wants to take me on a date.
Inhaling sharply, I accept the call.
“Hi, Violet, it’s?—”
“I know who it is,” I reply quickly and blush when I see I’ve cut him off. “Sorry.”
“I haven’t heard from you, so I thought I would follow up, just in case you lost my number.” My hands tighten around the steering wheel, Ethan’s face passing through my mind’s eye as he speaks. “Can we get together tonight?”
“There’s a snowstorm,” I say, frowning at the preposterous suggestion.
“I could come over to your place,” he offers. “We could stay in, make dinner.”
“No!” I answer before I can sugarcoat the reply. His audacity is daunting and a little frightening.
“No?” he echoes, sounding surprised and confused. “Oh. I thought you were interested when we spoke at the Winter Wonderland Festival.”
My frown deepens. “I wasn’t,” I tell him flatly, even though I’m not sure if that’s true. With everything happening with Ethan, I can’t trust my heart right now. All I know for sure is that I have no interest in this man. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. But I’m not looking to date anyone right now.”
What a terrible lie that is. I’m just not looking to date him. He’s not Ethan.
I pump on the brakes as I come to a stop sign.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed, and I want to say something to ease his humiliation, but before I can, he goes on. “But if you change your mind, you have my number, Violet. I’d really like to get to know you better.”
I wish I could give him a chance, but it wouldn’t be fair, not when I know I fully belong to someone else.
“Merry Christmas to you,” I mumble, unsure of what else to say.
“Same to you,” he replies, and we hang up.
I step too heavily on the gas, slipping forward, almost crashing into the vehicle in front of me. My heart pounding, I steady myself and the car before pulling over to regain my composure.
Tears of frustration and upset flood my eyes as the snow falls heavier around me. I suddenly feel very cold and alone, parked on the side street, willing my hands to stop trembling. I just want things to go back to how they were before Ethan came to me with his crazy proposal, before all these feelings stirred in me. Now I’ve lost everything important to me, and right before Christmas.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to him at all, but we couldn’t keep going on pretending when every minute I spend with him only made me recognize how much I care for him as so much more than a friend.
But there’s no going back in time now. The damage is done, and I did it. Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions.
On the Fridaybefore Christmas Eve, Mrs. Bennet texts me while I’m at my desk, poring over a new piece of property I’ve just found. She wants to ensure I’ll be at dinner, but I don’t respond to her immediately.
I want to check with Ethan first to make sure he still wants me there, but he doesn’t answer my text when I reach out to him. Unsurprisingly, I find him at the Maple Leaf Diner having lunch an hour later.
A fusion of surprise and concern touches his face as I march up to his table, making myself comfortable and sitting down.
“Hi,” I say flatly, crossing my legs and leaning forward as Addison arrives at the table.
“Hi, Violet. Coffee?” she asks.
“Please,” I agree.
“Need a menu?”
I shake my head. “I’m not staying. There’s a property I have to look at, but I need to talk to Ethan.”
Addison ventures off to get my drink as Ethan sets his fork down to study my face pensively. “Are you here looking for me?”
“Yes. You didn’t text me back,” I remind him.
“Sorry. I meant to,” he replies sheepishly.
My mouth tightens. “No, you didn’t. If you did, you would have. But I guess you don’t have time for me since I’m not going along with your plans anymore.”
He balks at my naked accusation. “That’s not true,” he growls. “I just thought you wanted some space to date or whatever. Isn’t that what you said?”
My brows furrow. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought I meant. I just didn’t want to lie anymore, that’s it.”
He doesn’t respond to what I said. “What are you doing here?”
“Your mom texted and wanted to know if I’m still going to Christmas dinner. I wanted to see what you think about spending Christmas with me.”
“Oh.” That’s not reassuring. I had hoped for a more enthusiastic response than that.
I shift gears. “How are you doing?” I ask, turning down the heat of the conversation. I came in too hot, and I regret it now. He shrugs, and I realize how tired and worn down he appears. It looks like I’m not the only one who’s not sleeping well.
“I’m okay. You?”
Biting on my lower lip, I sink back in my chair and fold my hands over my chest, looking around the fully decorated diner, my eyes trailing toward the beautiful landscape outside the picturesque windows I love so much.
“I miss our lunches,” I admit. “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all these past couple of weeks. I wish you weren’t avoiding me.”
“It’s not that I’m avoiding you,” he corrects me quickly. “I’m giving you space.”
I don’t recall asking for space, but maybe he isn’t wrong. Maybe we need to keep our distance from one another. It’s clear he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about him. There’s no need to put Ethan in an awkward position.
Our eyes meet, and he looks away first, my pulse quickening. “Ethan?—”
“I haven’t told my parents the truth,” he blurts out. “About us—or wanting to open the Christmas tree farm.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Mr. Bennet’s reaction to me at the grocery store should have told me as much, but now I’m mad again. My eyes close, and a hand reaches up to massage the space between my forehead and nose.
“Why not?” I demand, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.
“You know why not. Just because you backed out of our deal doesn’t mean anything has changed. I’m still on the hook for running the store.”
My eyelids pop open. “What deal?” I fire back, irate. “There was no deal. You threw me in the middle of your plan without consulting me, and I went along with it. It’s not my fault that I started having feelings for you.”
I gasp as the words fall from my lips before I can play them in my head. My eyes pop open, and I start to shake my head in denial. I’m on my feet, head swimming.
“I don’t know why I said that,” I mutter, backing away from the table, my purse and coat in hand. “I…”
Without finishing my sentence, I whirl away, almost knocking down Addison as she approaches with my coffee, but I don’t apologize or stop.
“Violet!”
Ignoring Ethan, I push my way out of the Maple Leaf Diner and rush toward my car, parked at the far end of Main Street, slipping and sliding all the way to the end. Then I drive three miles out of town to the property I had been scouting all morning. And even then, my heart has not recovered from the horrible blunder I made with my best friend.
Ethan textsand calls for the rest of the day, but he eventually stops when I don’t respond. I’m nauseous with nervousness by the time I pull up to my house, my knees weak. It’s pitch black when the headlights blink over the brick of my townhouse, and I reluctantly pull myself out of the warmth of the car.
I don’t hear the vehicle pull up behind me until the car door slams.
“Violet!”
My stomach flips, and I spin around to see Ethan hurrying up the walk, his face drawn and worried, even in the dark.
“Oh, Ethan…” I moan. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer any of my calls.”
“Because I don’t feel like talking,” I sigh. “It’s been a long day.”
“You don’t have to talk,” he tells me, taking my arm gently to lead me toward the door. “Just listen.”
His firm hand on my arm calms me slightly, but when I try to read his expression, I can’t make out what he’s feeling.
He’s going to let me down gently, I decide, swallowing my disappointment. This is a “let’s be friends” speech.
Silently, I unlock the door, and we head inside. Ethan closes the door at his back with a click. I deliberately keep myself facing forward, my cheeks flaming with shame as I try to think of something to say.
“I have feelings for you, too, Violet.”
My jaw slacks, and I spin around, eyes widening as I look at his sincere face, his own shame clear as he stands, hat literally in his hands.
“W-what?” I sputter, hardly believing my ears. “If this is your way of making me feel better?—”
“It’s not,” he interjects, stepping closer to me, his hand curling around my arm again. “This is my way of apologizing to you. I’ve been… stupid. I was worried that if I told you how I felt, if we pursued anything, that we might ruin the friendship we’ve had for decades.”
My head tips back to study him. “But you’re not worried about that now?” I ask suspiciously.
“No.” His free palm reaches up as he stares tenderly into my eyes. “Because I know, no matter what happens between us, you always have my back. You always have.”
“Of course I have your back,” I breathe, my heart pitter-pattering in my chest.
“When you told me about that client who wanted to date you…” He trails off, and I laugh, eyes darting down.
“But I don’t want to date him… or anyone else,” I moan, lowering my eyes. “You’re the only one I can think about, Ethan. I think I’ve always been in love with you.”
His fingers draw my face closer to him, and now, when our lips are on par, he doesn’t move away. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I know the feeling.”
Our mouths mesh together, and my breath is completely stolen by the tenderness of his kiss as my eyes close. I don’t start breathing again until we part, our eyes both blinking as we stare at one another, smiling warmly.
Ethan’s hand falls around my chin, and I take his palm as he exhales. “Does this mean you’re still interested in being with me?”
I nod eagerly and throw my arms around his neck as he encircles my waist, lifting me a few inches from the ground as he swings me. He places me back on my feet, but I see the slight shadow forming on his face.
“What is it?” I ask astutely. “Why do you still look so concerned?”
“I still have to tell my parents that I’m not taking over the store,” he reminds me, and I exhale.
“Yes,” I concede. “You do.” I step closer and tilt my head up toward him, a smile forming on my face. “But when we tell them together, you can show them the plan you have for your future.”
Puzzled, he releases me as I extend my hand toward him, leading him into the living room to produce my oversized purse.
Ethan uses the remote control to light up the small Christmas tree by the gas fireplace, and I pull a file folder out of the depths of my bag.
“What is that?” he asks, settling onto the sofa as I plop onto the floor at his feet, flipping open the manila folder. Inside is a listing for the piece of property I had been looking over all day, the same one I went out to visit earlier.
“The former Morrison Christmas Tree Farm,” I announce. “Three miles outside of Spruce Crossing.”
I show him the listing, and Ethan’s eyes brighten to match the sparkling lights on my tree. “Are you kidding?” he gasps. “I think I remember this place! It closed down when we were kids.”
“It’s been abandoned for fifteen years, so yes, the trees are all mature and ready to be harvested for next season,” I concede. “I took a ride there myself this afternoon. And I’m sure I can negotiate a decent deal for you, too, because it’s been vacant for so long.”
Dazed and amazed, Ethan flops back on the sofa, his smile overtaking the room. “The stars are really aligning for us!” he chokes, emotion flooding his voice.
“That’s what happens when we work together,” I reply, sliding onto the sofa beside him. “We can make all our dreams come true.”