Page 62 of Meet Me at the Christmas Cottage
“Everyone always expected those two to get married,” Martha went on, oblivious to Bronte’s pain. “They were voted most likely to get married in high school. Then one day, after years of being engaged, they just called it off. I’m not sure what happened.”
Her words echoed what Dani had told her about Bree the day before.
Martha’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh.” The one word sliced through Bronte as she turned to see what had surprised Martha.
Bree wrapped her arms around Jonah’s neck and pulled him toward her. Bronte turned before she could see their lips touch. A sharp pain sliced her ribs. All the breath left her. The wall she had been rebuilding slammed into place. Fully intact. This shouldn’t matter to her as much as it did.
After all, this was playing out exactly as Bronte had known it would when she’d heard about Bree. But did it have to happen with her in the room? Why had she let herself imagine anything else?
No. She curled her hands into fists. She wasn’t going to get upset about something that would ultimately give Jonah everything he ever wanted.
She was the bump in the couple’s relationship, the one that they would look back on over their life and laugh about. The one in the movie who was the stand-in until the girl who broke the guy’s heart met back up with him years later and told him that she’d made a mistake.
This would be better for Jonah anyway, Bronte told herself one more time. Jonah wanted a big family, and Bronte would bet anything that Bree still had a uterus. She knew Jonah told her that Bree had broken it off, but it looked like she had changed her mind. Bree would be able to give Jonah the life he wanted, the one with all the kids running around on the island. Once Jonah told his dad that he no longer wanted to take over the clinic, that he wanted to open a bookstore, marry Bree, and raise babies on Jonathon Island, his dad would be thrilled. Jonah’s family would be excited at his life plans, excited that he’d be coming back to the island.
Mind made up, Bronte nodded, turning to Martha. She wanted to get out of here and scrub her eyes. “I think I’m ready to go home.”
Martha looked back and forth between Bronte and the PDA happening on the dance floor. “But aren’t you going to…”
“Nope. No, I’m not, Martha, because that”—Bronte blindly pointed a finger in the direction of the happy couple, not willing to look to see if she was even pointing in the right direction—“is what Jonah White wants. He’s been waiting his whole life for someone who can come alongside him in his dreams, and Bree can do that.”
The older woman frowned. “But?—”
Bronte held up a hand, cutting Martha off. She was suddenly tired. So, so tired. “Thanks, Martha, but I’m going to get a ride home.”
Martha studied Bronte for so long that Bronte hoped she’d drop a bit of wisdom. Or tell her to go break up Jonah and Bree. In the end, Martha just nodded, and Bronte left to gather her things from where they’d stashed them earlier in a side room.
“I figured you’d be dancing the night away.” Dani’s voice startled Bronte. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
Bronte didn’t feel like talking about what happened. The faster she could gather her things and get out of there, the better.
“I just came in here to get a new battery for the walkie.” Dani seemed to just realize that Bronte had gathered her things. “Wait. Are you leaving?”
“Yeah.” Bronte shrugged. “I’m getting a little tired and still need to finish up my writing for today, so I’m heading out early.”
“Oh, bummer.” Dani exchanged the battery on her walkie, dropping the used one back into the charger. “Hope you get your words written. Thanks for coming this afternoon, and for all the help setting up yesterday. I really appreciate it. Hope you had a good time tonight.”
“I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.”
She’d remember her entire stay on Jonathon Island. A little over a week, and she felt like she was part of a family—even more so than when she had been with Brad and his family.
But in the end, Bronte had still ended up with nothing.
* * *
“What are you doing?” Jonah pulled back from Bree before she could kiss him, and then, feeling like there still wasn’t enough space between them, took a step back.
“I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry.” Bree’s eyes darted around as if making sure all eyes weren’t on them. “That I made a mistake when I didn’t fight for us seven years ago. I want us back, Jonah.” She took a step toward him, but he held out a hand, stopping her. “I would have told you sooner, but this isn’t exactly something you tell someone over FaceTime.”
Bree’s eyes were wide, and her lower lip trembled. Any other time, it would have been Jonah’s breaking point. A crying Bree always got what she wanted, but that had been then.
Jonah ran a hand over his face. How could something that he’d wanted for so long not stir anything inside him? He just felt…nothing. He chuckled.
Bree blanched. “This is funny to you?”
“I wanted this for so long. When you said you were done waiting and I wasn’t ready to commit, it about broke me,” Jonah said with a shake of his head. Bree’s face turned from one of shock, to something hopeful. Jonah was sorry to disappoint her. “But I don’t. Want this”—he motioned between them—“anymore.”
Bree’s face fell. “What can I do to get you back, Jonah?” She put her hands on his chest. “I need you back.”
