Ivy shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “It’s okay to let go sometimes,” she said quietly. “You don’t always have to be in control.”
Celeste’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of Ivy’s words sinking into her. She could feel it—the pull between them, the warmth of the fire, the way the tension in the room had shifted. There was no going back now, no pretending that the connection between them wasn’t real.
Slowly, Celeste reached out, her hand brushing against Ivy’s. It was such a small gesture, but it felt monumental, like a crack in the fortress she’d built around herself.
Ivy’s eyes softened as she turned her hand to meet Celeste’s, their fingers intertwining. Neither of them spoke, but the silence between them was no longer filled with uncertainty. It was filled with something else—something deep, unspoken, but understood.
Celeste leaned in, her lips meeting Ivy’s in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and all the things she couldn’t say aloud. The fire crackled beside them and the snow fell softly outside, and in that moment, Celeste let herself slowly let go.
8
IVY
The scent of cinnamon hung thick in the air, weaving between the clinking of mugs and soft chatter of customers seated around the bakery. Ivy stood behind the counter, smiling absently as she frosted a batch of cupcakes. The warmth of the oven, the hum of familiar voices, and the gentle snowfall outside painted the perfect winter backdrop, one that usually filled her with peace. But today, something felt off—an uneasy tension tugging at the corners of her thoughts. She brushed it aside, focusing on the delicate swirl of icing beneath her fingertips.
“I can’t believe they’re really going through with it,” a customer at the counter said casually.
Ivy glanced up, her smile faltering slightly as she recognized one of her regulars, Mrs. Turner. The elderly woman placed her order on the counter, her voice laced with idle gossip. “The redevelopment, I mean. I heard that woman Celeste Winters signed the deal this morning. You wouldn’t believe the buzz around town!”
Ivy’s hand froze mid-swipe, her fingers trembling around the icing bag. For a moment, the world tilted on its axis and nothing made sense, the hum of the bakery fading into the background.She forced herself to keep her expression neutral as she met Mrs. Turner’s eyes.
“The deal?” Ivy asked, her voice coming out as a strangled whisper as that’s all she could manage. Her heart pounded in her chest, the words sharp, cutting into her like shards of glass.
Mrs. Turner nodded, oblivious to the storm brewing behind Ivy’s calm façade. “Oh yes, it’s been all over town. Big plans for that new resort development. I guess they’re starting early next year.”
The rest of the conversation was a blur, Mrs. Turner’s voice becoming nothing but a distant hum as Ivy’s vision narrowed. Her chest tightened, the weight of betrayal pressing down on her until it was hard to breathe.She really went through with it.
The bakery, once filled with warmth and comfort, now felt suffocating. The scent of sugar and cinnamon, normally soothing, became cloying, wrapping around her like a too-tight scarf. Her hands shook as she gripped the counter, her knuckles turning white from the force.
“I…I need to step out for a minute,” Ivy mumbled, barely able to get the words out as she pushed away from the counter and placed the icing bag aside. She didn’t hear Mrs. Turner’s response as she stumbled toward the door, the heavy wooden frame creaking as she shoved it over and stumbled into the cold.
The biting wind hit her face like a slap, and for a moment, she stood there, staring blankly at the snow falling in soft, silent sheets. The air was sharp, frigid, but it wasn’t enough to clear the weight pressing on her chest. She felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. Her bakery, her home, the place her mother and grandmother had built with love and care, was going to be torn apart. And Celeste—Celeste—had made that decision without a word, after everything they had shared the night before.
The betrayal sank deep, twisting like a knife. She had let her guard down. She had believed, maybe foolishly, that Celestecared. That the connection they had was real, more than just a passing fling. But now it felt like nothing more than manipulation. A cruel game of power that Celeste had won.
Ivy’s breath came out in ragged gasps, her fists clenched at her sides as the cold air stung her cheeks, freezing the wayward tears that slipped down. She couldn’t stand still. She needed answers. She needed to confront Celeste, to hear from her own lips why she’d done it—why she’d thrown away their connection so easily for the sake of some soulless development deal.
Without thinking, Ivy turned on her heel and marched down the street, the snow crunching beneath her boots as she made her way to Celeste’s temporary office. Her anger simmered beneath her skin, hot and volatile, rising with each step. She wouldn’t let Celeste get away with this. Not after everything.
The door to Celeste’s temporary office in the outskirts of town slammed open, the sound echoing through the stark, impersonal space. Ivy stood in the doorway, her chest heaving as she took in the cold, sterile environment. The walls were bare and furniture minimalist, so different from the warmth of her bakery. Even the air felt cooler, more distant, like stepping into an entirely different world. It was a world that belonged to Celeste the CEO—the businesswoman who made decisions without thinking of the people they affected.
Worse, Celestehadthought about her but simply didn’t care enough…
Celeste looked up from behind her desk, surprise flashing in her eyes. “Ivy?” Her voice was calm, controlled, but Ivy didn’t miss the way her gaze flickered with uncertainty.
Ivy stormed into the room, her boots leaving a trail of snow on the floor as she stopped in front of Celeste’s desk. “You signed the deal,” she said plainly, her voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “You signed it, and you didn’t even have thedecencyto tell me.”
Celeste’s expression hardened, though a flicker of regret passed over her features. She stood, smoothing her hands over the front of her blazer, as if preparing for a confrontation. “Ivy, listen?—”
“No,” Ivy cut her off, her voice rising with the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I’m done listening. Itrustedyou, Celeste. I thought… I thought what we had meant something. But you went ahead and signed the deal anyway, knowing it would destroy my bakery, destroy everything my family built.” She paused. “Destroy me.”
The hurt in her voice echoed through the room, hanging in the space between them like a tangible weight. Outside, the snowstorm had grown fiercer, the wind howling against the windows as if reflecting Ivy’s inner turmoil.
Celeste took a step forward, her eyes filled with something close to remorse. “It’s not that simple,” she said softly. “I had to make a decision, and this deal is more complicated than?—”
“You always have an excuse,” Ivy snapped, her voice breaking. “It’s always about business with you, isn’t it? That’s all that ever matters.”
Celeste’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, there was silence, the tension between them thick and heavy. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, more vulnerable. “Ivy, I care about you. This…this isn’t just business to me. But I have obligations, responsibilities I can't ignore.”
