Merry
Theplowcomesthroughmidafternoon, its low rumble echoing up the ridge like a signal that the world beyond the mountain is waking back up. Snow is pushed aside in neat, heavy banks, and the narrow drive reappears beneath the white, dark gravel showing through like a promise that I can leave if I want to.
Freedom.
Or at least, the option of it.
Rowan stands beside me at the window, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable as he watches the last of the snow fall away from the road. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to.He's already told me what he wants, and more importantly, he's given me space to decide what I want.
That matters more than he probably realizes.
"I should probably load the wreaths," I say after a moment, breaking the quiet.
"Yes," he agrees. "I'll help."
We work side by side, carrying boxes from the workroom to my SUV. The air is crisp and clean, the mountain shining under a fresh blanket of snow that sparkles in the afternoon sun. Everything feels sharper somehow, brighter. The wreaths smell like pine and winter and something solid, something real.
My car fills quickly. Rowan has packed them carefully, each one wrapped to protect the delicate elements, nestled in boxes with tissue paper.
"This is more than I expected," I say, closing the trunk gently.
"I told you I'd fill what I could," he replies.
I turn to face him, the mountain stretching out behind us in endless white. My breath fogs in the cold air. "Rowan… about what you said earlier."
He meets my gaze, steady and calm. "I meant it."
"I know." I take a breath, the cold air filling my lungs, clearing my head. "I didn't come up here planning to change my life. I just needed wreaths."
A corner of his mouth lifts. "They say love happens when you least expect it.”
Love.“You said love.”
“I did,” he agrees.
“You love me?”
His response is immediate, without a hint of hesitation. “I do.”
I swallow. “This is all happening so fast. I have a shop. A staff. A routine that works for me."
"I don’t want you to give it up, Merry.”
I've built Merry & Bright from the ground up, and I'm proud of it. But somewhere along the way, I stopped enjoying it. It became about survival, about staying ahead, about proving I could do it alone.
I lick my lips. "I don't need to choose between my business and… this," I say, gesturing between us, then toward the cabin. "We’ll make it work. Together."
His eyes soften, something warm and relieved settling there. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."
I step closer, slipping my hands into his coat pockets, feeling his warmth even through the layers. "I'll head back down today. Get things organized. Talk to my assistant about taking on more responsibility. But I'll be back before Christmas."
"When you come back, how long will you stay?" he asks.
"As long as you'll have me," I say simply.
His arms come around me, pulling me close against his chest. "Then you'll be stuck here forever."
Heat curls low in my stomach, familiar and welcome. "Not stuck. Here by choice."
