As she approached, her outfit caught my eye—a mix of sheer black lace and velvet that gave off a distinct Stevie Nicks vibe. Layers of fabric flowed around her, and a fringed shawl draped over her shoulders. Beneath it, a green dress, embroidered with intricate patterns of leaves and vines, shimmered in the sunlight.
“Yes, please,” I replied, grateful for the distraction. She stepped forward, her movements graceful and fluid, and handed me a brush she had picked up.
“I’m Ivy Hart,” she said, her smile warm and inviting. “Welcome to Hallow’s End.”
“Thanks,” I uttered, tucking the supplies in the box and returning her smile. “I’m Lavinia Carlisle, but everyone calls me Vinnie.”
As she stood closer, I noticed more details. Ivy was about five-foot-three, with a curvy figure that perfectly captured a girl-next-door charm mixed with a touch of mysticism. The charm bracelets on her wrists chimed softly as she adjusted her shawl. There was something undeniably enchanting about her whimsical ensemble and her striking blue hair, making her seem like a modern-day fairy.
Ivy’s blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I know who you are. Everyone does. We rarely have newcomers this early in autumn. Most people visit later in the year. There’s been quite a buzz about you staying for so long. Most only come for a week or two.” Her whimsical smile widened. “I run the bookshop, Enchanted Quill. Stop by if you need a good read, or some herbal tea.”
The thought that everyone already knew about me sent a flutter of anxiety and curiosity through my stomach. It was strange to be the center of attention in a place I barely knew.
“That’s . . . good to know,” I remarked, trying to maintain a smile. “I’ll definitely come by.”
As Ivy chatted with me, she reached into a large, bohemian-style tote bag, adorned with embroidered flowers and tassels, that was slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a small bundle of herbs tied with a delicate ribbon and handed it to me. The fragrant mix of lavender, rosemary, and basil filled the air.
“For new beginnings,” she said with a knowing smile.
I took the bundle, glancing at it curiously. Sensing my confusion, Ivy’s smile widened, and she explained, “These are herbs from my garden. Rosemary for protection, lavender for good luck, and basil for prosperity and abundance. Hang it by your front door to welcome all these blessings into your home while you stay here.”
As Ivy spoke, I thought back to my college days. While I had never been particularly interested in thewitchyside of life, my college roommate Sandra was an enthusiastic believer in crystals and tarot cards. During a full moon, she used to place jars of water on the windowsill, claiming it was for makingmoon water, though I never quite understood what that meant. I had always found it odd, smiling politely at her explanations while secretly wondering if it actually did anything.
Now, standing in front of Ivy, I wondered if she did similar things. Her gift of the herb bundle, and her talk of blessings, had a charming sincerity to it, even if itwasoutside my usual realm of belief. Still, there was something comforting about the idea of welcoming positivity into my new space, even if it came in the form of herbs from a garden.
“Thanks,” I said, with a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this place, and these people, were precisely what I needed to move forward.
As we finished gathering the scattered art supplies, Ivy began chatting about the town’s upcoming Halloween festival. “It’s a really big deal around here,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Everyone in the community gets involved. There are stalls, games, a costume parade, and a bonfire. We call it Spooktacular Hallow’s Eve, and it’s what attracts most of our visitors and tourists. The town can get pretty busy toward the end of October—it’s the perfect way to experience the town’s spirit!”
Her enthusiasm was infectious and, for the first time since arriving, I felt a flicker of excitement. “That sounds amazing,” I said, genuinely intrigued. “I’d love to check it out.”
“You definitely should,” Ivy replied with a warm smile. “And we’re always looking for volunteers to help with the setup. It’s a great way to get to know everyone, and really feel like part of the community.”
I nodded, feeling a sense of belonging start to take root. “I’d love to help out. Count me in.”
Ivy’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic, Vinnie! We could always use an extra pair of hands. It’s going to be so much fun!”
“Looking forward to it,” I said, genuinely excited about the prospect of diving into the town’s traditions and getting to know more of the locals.
Halloween was seven weeks away, and I realized it would be a perfect way to wrap up my stay at Hallow’s End. By then, I hoped I would have a clearer idea of where to go next and what steps to take in my life.
After Ivy left, I carried the last box inside and set it down in the living room. The cottage was modest but cozy, with wooden beams on the ceiling adding a rustic charm. The warm and inviting space featured walls painted in a soft, creamy white, and a floor made of polished hardwood.
Clearly targeting tourists seeking a picturesque getaway, the layout was open, and thoughtfully designed. The living room flowed seamlessly into a small but fully equipped kitchen, complete with quaint, vintage-style appliances. A comfortable-looking sofa was positioned in front of a stone fireplace, perfect for curling up on chilly nights. A wooden coffee table sat in front of it, adorned with a few carefully selected magazines, and a vase of fresh flowers.
To the left, a set of French doors led to a small dining area, which featured a round table and four chairs, all made of sturdy oak. Light, gauzy curtains draped the windows, letting in plenty of natural light and brightening the space. On the right side of the living room, a narrow hallway led to the bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom was simple yet charming, with a large, plush bed covered in soft linens and decorative pillows. A small TV sat on a low dresser opposite the bed, providing a touch of modern convenience in the otherwise quaint setting.
I stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes, and took a deep breath. This was a temporary refuge, a place to pause and gather my thoughts away from the expectations and pressures of my old life. This cottage, with its perfect blend of comfort and quaintness, offered a peaceful escape where I could find some clarity and decide on my next steps. A quiet space to breathe, and figure out what I truly wanted for my future.
Yet, as I unpacked my things and tried to make the space my own, I couldn’t shake the sensation that something was missing
Leaving Cresden hadn’t been easy. The city’s relentless pace, the constant pressure from my parents, and the suffocating way of a life I hadn’t chosen for myself, had all become overwhelming. But leaving Sebastian had been hard. Yet, our relationship had been a mess, and I’d finally reached a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, the ache in my heart was still there, lingering and persistent.
Despite the bad stuff, there were moments of pure, undeniable passion and connection. His intense green eyes, the way he could evoke a sense of vitality and invincibility with just a look, and the dreams we had once shared—all of it haunted me. I missed the thrill he brought to my life, and the excitement that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
The cozy nook, with its soft natural light, seemed perfect for setting up a temporary art station. As I unpacked my art supplies, the familiar scent of the paints, and the feel of brushes in my hands, brought back memories of our time together. As I arranged my canvases and paint tubes, I thought back to one, particularly vivid night.
Sebastian, in a rare burst of spontaneity, had suggested something daring—naked modelling. He’d proposed the idea with a mischievous grin, and I couldn’t resist the excitement it promised. We set up in my studio, the room alive with the scent of paint, and the soft glow of dimmed lights. As I sketched him, the air seemed charged with anticipation. His intense green eyes never left mine, and soon, he was behind me, his hands playfully smudging paint on my skin.
