Ivy laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and jagged to her ears. “If you cared about me at all, you would’ve found another way. You would’ve fought for this—for us. But instead, you chose theeasy way out. You chose the deal. You chose money over people. Over me.”
Celeste opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. The weight of Ivy’s accusation hung between them, undeniable and true. For a moment, Celeste’s mask of control slipped, and Ivy saw the vulnerability beneath it—the part of Celeste that maybe wanted to fight but didn’t know how.
But it wasn’t enough anymore.
“I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses,” Ivy said, her voice hardening at the edges as she stepped back to put more distance between them. “I can’tbelieveI let myself trust you. I won’t make that mistake again.”
She turned on her heel before Celeste could see the tears welling in her eyes, and the sound of her boots echoed against the cold, sterile floor as she walked away. The snowstorm raged on outside, and as Ivy pushed open the large door, the cold wind hit her like a wall. But even the biting chill couldn’t numb the pain in her chest.
Without looking back, she walked out into the storm, leaving Celeste behind.
9
CELESTE
The quiet hum of conversation outside Celeste’s office barely reached her, muffled by the thick glass door. Inside, everything was silent, controlled. The sun was setting over the city, casting long shadows over her expansive, ultra-modern office. The skyscrapers beyond her windows were awash in a golden glow, but the sight held no comfort for Celeste. She sat behind her desk, perfectly polished and free of clutter, and stared blankly at the skyline as the world continued its frantic pace below her.
In front of her, the contracts for the redevelopment deal were stacked neatly in a manila folder. The ink had barely dried on her signature, and yet, as she looked at it now, it felt meaningless. She should’ve felt victorious. This was everything she’d ever worked for—control, success, power. Yet the satisfaction she’d always chased was nowhere to be found. In its place was a gnawing emptiness, a hollow ache that no amount of accomplishment could fill.
She leaned back in her chair, her eyes drifting around the room. Expensive art hung on the walls—pieces she’d picked out herself, each one carefully curated to project the image she’dcultivated. The furniture was modern, sharp, with clean lines and cold edges. Everything was perfect. Exactly as it should be.
And it all felt like a cage…
Celeste pressed her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes. All she could think about was Ivy and Ellie. The warmth of the bakery. The sound of Ivy’s laugh as she rolled out dough, Ellie’s excitement over a snowstorm that left a fresh blanket of powder outside the door. The crackling fire, the smell of cinnamon and sugar…
She opened her eyes and stared down at the folder. It hadn’t felt like a victory when she’d signed the forms. It felt like a betrayal.
The tightness in her chest wouldn’t go away, a weight pressing down, suffocating her. She’d done what she always did—she made the smart decision. The logical one. She’d chosen power over people. Security over vulnerability. And now she was left with nothing but the hollow ache of regret.
There was a faint sound of Christmas music drifting up from the streets below. Celeste tilted her head toward the window, straining to hear. It was distant, muffled by the glass, but it reached her all the same—joyous carols, faint but persistent.
It reminded her of Hollyridge. Of the twinkling lights strung up across the streets, the wreaths hung on every door, the smell of gingerbread cookies cooling on the counter. Ivy’s soft smile as she handed her a steaming mug of coffee, the sparkle in Ellie’s eyes as she showed off her latest crayon masterpiece.
She gripped the armrests of her chair, the sharp edges digging into her palms. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She had everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she sacrificed for. So why did it all feel like ashes in her mouth?
A knock on the door broke through her haze. Her assistant, Mara, peeked her head, her voice bright and professional as shereminded Celeste of her next meeting. Another deal to close. Another step toward an ever-growing empire.
But the thought of it left Celeste feeling cold.
“Cancel it,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Mara hesitated, clearly thrown off by the request. “Excuse me?”
“I said cancel it.” Celeste didn’t look away from the window, her gaze fixed on the city below. “All of it.”
There was a long pause, and then the door clicked shut. Silence enveloped her once more. The world outside her office continued to move, the city bustling with people rushing from one thing to the next, but Celeste remained frozen in place, staring at the life she’d built.
A life that felt so far removed from the one she now wanted.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d changed—how muchtheyhad changed her—until it was too late. The warmth she found with Ivy and Ellie, the connection she didn’t know she’d been missing all her life, had been right there in her grasp. And she’d walked away from it.
Her breath hitched as the weight of that realization settled over her. What had she done?
Her eyes blurred, and for the first time in years, Celeste felt the sharp sting of tears. She pressed her fingers to her temples again, breathing deeply to steady herself, but the cracks were already forming, the carefully constructed walls around her heart beginning to crumble.
She couldn’t keep going on like this…
The deal…it didn’t matter. The power, the success, the control—it was nothing compared to what she’d felt with Ivy and Ellie. And now, she knew she had ruined it. The weight of it threatened to crush her inside.
