Page 58 of Light My Fire Three Times
So, I swallow the truth and hold the lie.
“You’re imagining things,” I grind out, though my pulse is hammering.
Vanessa leans closer, her anger twisting into something darker, hungrier. “Then prove it. Look me in the eye, Jesse, and tell me I’m wrong.”
I do look her in the eye. And the silence that follows feels like it might tear me in half.
Her stare is a blade, sharp and unrelenting. She leans in like she can force the truth out of me with proximity alone.
There’s no way I can tell her the truth. She’ll run right to Ivy to cause issues for me. I shake my head and ignore her.
“You can’t even say it,” she hisses. “You can’t even lie well. Jesse, who is she? Huh? Some shiny new toy? Someone who doesn’t know you like I do?”
I exhale through my nose, hard, trying to keep control. “Vanessa, enough.”
“No,” she snaps back, slamming her palm against the table. The sound ricochets through the kitchen. “Don’t ‘enough’ me. You don’t get to sit there and act like we were nothing, and then… then you’re looking at me like you’ve already moved on. Like I’m replaceable.”
“You walked away,” I bite out, the words spilling before I can stop them. “You had someone else. You left. What did you expect me to do? Sit here like a dog waiting for you to come back?”
Her face twists, wounded and furious all at once. “Don’t you dare. You know I cared. You know it wasn’t just some fling for me?—”
“Vanessa,” I cut in, hands gripping the counter. “It was fun, it was messy, it was… it was what it was. But it’s not where I’m at now.”
She shakes her head, standing so quickly her chair scrapes across the floor. “Bullshit. You’re scared. That’s all this is. You don’t want to admit how much I meant to you.”
I step forward, meeting her glare with mine. “You’re not listening. I don’t want this. Not with you. Not anymore.”
For a second, her bravado cracks. Her lip trembles, eyes flashing hurt before she smothers it with anger. “You’ll regretthis,” she spits. “You think whoever she is will stick around? You think she’ll get you the way I did?”
I clench my jaw, blood pounding in my ears. “Vanessa, leave.”
She stares at me like I’ve slapped her. Then she laughs, short and sharp, and grabs her bag off the chair. “Fine. But don’t come crawling back when she breaks your heart.”
She storms toward the door, heels striking the floor like gunshots. At the threshold, she spins, eyes still wild, still demanding. “You’ll think of me. You will.”
I don’t answer. I hold her stare until she finally huffs, mutters something under her breath, and slams the door behind her.
The silence that follows is suffocating. I drag a hand down my face, jaw aching, chest tight.
The smell of charred steak lingers in the air, but all I can taste is the bitterness she left behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Olivia
DECEMBER 1ST
Coyote Glen has officially turnedinto a Christmas card.
Lights strung across Main Street, wreaths on every shop door, the air smelling of cinnamon and pine, like some Hallmark movie threw up all over town. It’s… magical. And exhausting.
Because apparently, when your town looks festive and adorable, everybody wants coffee. Specifically, my coffee. Specifically, coffee that tastes of sugar cookies, candy canes, or gingerbread.
I’ve basically turned into Santa’s personal barista, only instead of elves I’ve got Maddie, who’s sixteen, sassy, and currently humming “All I Want for Christmas Is You” for the eighth time this morning.
And me? I’m running on exactly zero Christmas cheer and about seven shots of espresso.
My little coffee truck is decked out within an inch of its life. Twinkly lights, fake snow spray on the window, a wreath I hot-glued myself that is going to fall apart before Christmas Eve.
