Chapter 20 Sloane
SLOANE
December hits Denver like a Hallmark movie on steroids. Overnight, the entire city transforms into a winter wonderland that makes me want to vomit. Lights everywhere. Garland on every lamppost. Store windows filled with snow globes, nutcrackers, and displays that scream Christmas joy.
And I’m the fucking Grinch this year.
“You’re doing it again,” Riley observes, watching me glare at a particularly offensive inflatable Santa in someone’s yard as we drive past.
“Doing what?”
“Scowling at Christmas decorations like they personally attacked you.”
“They’re everywhere. It’s an assault.”
“It’s December third. This is normal.” She glances at me. “You love Christmas. You’re the person who starts playing Mariah Carey the day after Halloween. What happened to you?”
“I grew a brain.”
“You’re miserable because you miss him and you’re too stubborn to do anything about it,” Riley says, calling me out.
She’s not wrong. It’s been a week since Maggie brought the folder. A week since I’ve been staring at the business listing for hours while spiraling into anxiety. A week of texting Jax about chickens and weather while carefully avoiding anything real.
I’m a coward. A coward surrounded by Christmas.
My phone buzzes.
JAX: Emergency. The chickens are staging a protest again.
Despite my foul mood, I smile.
SLOANE: What are their demands?
JAX: Better nesting boxes. Organic feed. Weekends off. They’ve made signs.
SLOANE: Signs?
JAX: Okay, I made the signs. But they’re holding them. Kind of.
SLOANE: Pictures or it didn’t happen.
A photo comes through. Jax holding a chicken, the chicken holding a tiny sign that says, ‘FAIR WAGES FOR FAIR EGGS.’
I laugh out loud.
SLOANE: That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
JAX: Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.
SLOANE: Too late. I’m showing everyone.
JAX: Traitor.
I’m still smiling when Riley pulls into the parking lot of the coffee shop where we’re meeting Maggie.
“See?” Riley says. “He makes you happy. Why are you fighting this?”
“I know. I’m processing.”
“You’ve been processing for a month. At some point, processing becomes avoidance.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
Maggie is already inside, laptop open, surrounded by papers. She looks tired. Dark circles under her eyes. Her hair not quite as perfect as usual.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the seat across from her. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just busy.” She closes the laptop. “Work stuff.”
“How’s that going?”
“Still hate it. Actually, I gave my notice today.”
Riley and I both freeze.
“You what?” I gasp.
“I quit.” She says it simply, but I can see the fear underneath. “Two weeks’ notice. I’m done.”
“Holy shit, Mags.”
“Mom and Dad don’t know yet. I’m telling them this weekend.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m terrified. But also, I feel lighter than I have in years.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well.” She pulls out more papers from the folder that apparently lives in her bag now.
“I’ve been looking at the numbers for the business again.
And I think we should do it. I know it’s scary.
I know it’s a huge risk. But I’ve been doing more research, and it’s solid, Sloane.
Really solid. And I ... I need this. I need something that’s mine.
Something that matters. And I want a fresh start. ”
Riley reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. “We’re all in. Right, Sloane?”
I stare at them. My sister who just quit her job. My best friend who’s ready to leave the city. Both looking at me with hope and determination, and I’m the one who’s standing in their way. That’s not fair on them and it’s not fair on me.
“We could lose it if we wait too long,” Maggie states.
“Fuck it! I’m in.”
Riley and Maggie’s faces light up, and I know then it’s the right decision.
The next day, I’m walking downtown when I pass a movie theater. The marquee advertises a new Christmas movie.
Snowbound Hearts Coming December 15th.
My chest tightens. I keep walking, but I can’t escape it. Every store window has Christmas displays. Every coffee shop has peppermint mochas. Every radio station plays nothing but holiday music. And every single thing reminds me of Jax.
Then I pass the bookstore window filled with romance novels featuring couples in the snow.
The coffee shop with a fireplace crackling in the corner.
The gift shop with handmade ornaments and local crafts.
It’s torture. I duck into a store to escape the cold and find myself in the Christmas section.
Rows of decorations. Lights. Garland. Everything I usually love.
A woman next to me is gushing to her friend. “And then he just showed up at my door with hot chocolate and said he couldn’t spend Christmas without me. It was so romantic.”
“That’s just like that movie,” her friend squeals. “You know the one? Where she goes to the cabin and gets snowed in with the hot guy.”
My face burns, reminding me of my own fate with Jax.
I leave the store quickly, my heart pounding.
“Sloane?”
Fuck.
I turn around slowly, and there he is.
Chett.
He’s standing on the sidewalk holding shopping bags, looking at me like he’s seen a ghost.
“I thought that was you,” he says, moving closer.
I step back. “Don’t.”
“I just want to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Your mom is worried about you.” He’s using that soft voice. The concerned boyfriend voice. “She says you won’t return her calls.”
“That’s between me and my mom, it has nothing to do with you.” I glare at him.
“She asked me to check on you.”
Of course she did. “I’m fine. As you can see. Now leave me alone.”
“Sloane, please.” He grabs my arm.
I yank it away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I miss you. Is that so fucking wrong? We were together for nine years,” he argues.
“We’ve had this conversation before. I’m bored of it.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Blah. Blah. Blah. So, you’ve said a million times. Stop calling it a mistake.” People are staring now. I don’t care. “You made a choice. Multiple choices. And I’m done talking about it.”
“Is this because of that redneck? His face twists. “Are you two seriously together? Because you can do better than someone like him.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“So, you are. Jesus, Sloane. You couldn’t even wait a month before …”
“Before what? Before moving on from the man who destroyed my trust. Before finding someone who treats me with respect?” I’m shaking now. “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t get to have an opinion on my life. You lost that right.”
“I love you.”
“You don’t love me. You love the idea of me. The version of me that did everything you wanted, who never questioned you, and made herself smaller so you could feel bigger.” My voice breaks. “But that person is gone. And she’s not coming back.”
I walk away before he can respond, my hands shaking so hard I can barely pull out my phone.
I don’t know who to call. Riley is at work.
Maggie is probably dealing with her own crisis.
My thumb hovers over Jax’s number. But I can’t.
I can’t keep running to him every time things get hard.
I need to figure this out myself. So, I just keep walking, past the decorations and the happy couples and the Christmas music, feeling more alone than I have in my entire life.
Dr. Chen listens to the whole story in our next session. “So, you ran into your ex, had a confrontation, and instead of reaching out to your support system, you just walked home alone.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to be able to handle things on my own. I can’t just call Jax every time something goes wrong.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s ... that’s codependent. Seems unhealthy,” I tell her.
“Or,” Dr. Chen says gently, “that’s having a support system. That’s letting people who care about you be there for you. There’s a difference between being codependent and being supported.”
“How do I know which is which?” I ask her.
“Are you calling him because you can’t function without him? Or because you trust him and want his support?” she asks.
I think about that. “The second one.”
“Then it’s not codependence. It’s connection.” She leans forward. “Sloane, you’ve spent the last month working so hard to be independent that you’ve swung to the opposite extreme. You’re isolating yourself. Keeping everyone at arm’s length. Even the people who want to help you.”
“I just don’t want to make the same mistakes,” I tell her.
“What mistakes?”
“Losing myself in a relationship. Becoming dependent on someone else for my happiness.”
“But you’re not happy now. You’re miserable. You’re surrounded by a holiday you love, and you can’t enjoy it because you’re so busy trying to prove you don’t need anyone.” She pauses. “What if the answer isn’t choosing between needing someone and not needing anyone? What if it’s finding balance?”
Fuck.
I hate that she’s right.
That night, Riley drags me to a holiday market downtown.
“You need to get out of your head,” she insists. “And I need to Christmas shop. Two birds, one stone.”
The market is exactly what you’d expect. Twinkling lights strung between vendor tents. The smell of hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts. People laughing, shopping, and being festive. I hate it. Not really, but you know.
“Stop scowling,” Riley says, pulling me toward a tent selling handmade ornaments. “You’re going to scare small children.”
“Good. They shouldn’t be out this late anyway.”
“It’s 6 P.M.”
“Exactly. Past their bedtime.” I pout.
She rolls her eyes and starts browsing ornaments. I stand there, hands shoved in my pockets, trying not to think about how much Jax would love this. How he’d probably buy ornaments for his grandmother and tease me about being the Grinch, and make everything feel warm and right.
“Oh my god.” Riley gasps. “Look at this.”
She holds up an ornament. A tiny log cabin with snow on the roof and warm lights in the windows. My chest tightens.
“It’s perfect for you,” she says. “For your first Christmas in your new place. Wherever that is.”
“I don’t have a new place,” I remind her.
“Not yet. But you will.” She buys it despite my protests and hands it to me. “Merry early Christmas. For when you finally grow a pair and go after what you want.”
I stare at the ornament in my hand. At the little cabin that looks so much like the one where everything changed.
“I’m terrified,” I admit as tears start to fall down my cheeks.
“I know,” she says, placing a reassuring arm around my shoulders.
“What if I’m wrong about Jax?”
“Then you make a different choice next time. But, Sloane, not choosing is still a choice. And right now, you’re choosing to stay stuck.”
December 15th.
The new Christmas movie premieres. I know because it’s everywhere. On every streaming service. Every commercial. Every social media post.
Snowbound Hearts
A woman gets stuck in a cabin during a storm. Falls for her rescuer. They have a whirlwind romance. It’s predictable and cheesy and exactly the kind of movie I usually love. I can’t watch it. It hits too close to him.
Riley finds me staring at the trailer on my laptop, frozen.
“You want to watch it?” she asks carefully.
“No.”
“Liar.” She smirks.
“I can’t.” My voice breaks. “I can’t watch it and not think about him and how I’m too much of a coward to do anything about how I feel.”
“Do something about it then. This limbo doesn’t help anything. And honestly, I want Sloane back. This version sucks as a best friend,” Riley states. I glare at her. I know I’ve been difficult during this.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Fucking go to him.”
“What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if I waited too long?”
Riley rolls her eyes. “Doubtful, by the number of chicken updates he sends you. If that doesn’t tell you he’s still interested, then I don’t know what to tell you. But at least you’ll know either way,” she tells me.
She’s right. I stare at my phone. At Jax’s number. At the last text he sent.
JAX: I miss you.
I miss him and that’s what I should have said, but instead, I let his message sit there, frozen by fear. I’m such a bitch and he deserves better.
December 21st.
I’m walking past the bookstore again, with its window full of Christmas romance novels. All with snowy covers and cozy cabins and couples falling in love. I step inside, and like a moth to a flame, I follow the sign that says.
The Holiday Romance Collection
Find your own Snowbound Heart.
I stop walking and stand there staring at the display.
At the couples on the covers, looking at each other like they’re the only people in the world.
At the snow and the cabins and the promise of happily ever after.
And something inside me breaks open. Is that what Jax and I looked like together?
Because standing here, staring at these books filled with promise, magic, and love, it finally hits me.
That was me.
I pull out my phone and type into the group chat.
SLOANE: I fucking love Christmas.
MAGGIE: Are you drunk?
SLOANE: No, but I’ve seen the light.
RILEY: Are you high?
SLOANE: No. I’m at a romance bookstore and I decided that I want that.
RILEY: A book?
SLOANE: It all.
MAGGIE: You’re talking in riddles.
SLOANE: I want Jax. I want the business. I want it all.
RILEY: Finally.
MAGGIE: Good. Because they accepted our offer today.
SLOANE: Wait, what?
MAGGIE: The business is ours.
Tears well in my eyes. I don’t believe this.
RILEY: We need to celebrate.
MAGGIE: Meet you at the bar in twenty.
Maggie drops the location in the chat.
SLOANE: See you there.
I feel relieved as if all the heaviness I’ve been dealing with has suddenly vanished and the universe is telling me, you did the right thing.
Then I scroll to my texts with Jax.
All the chicken updates. All the sweet messages. All the times he said, ‘I’m here’ and meant it. I know what I want now.