He nods his head curtly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything as soon as I take care of my business here. Yeah…” he nods his head a few more times, eyes still closed firmly. But I can see his eyes flickering rapidly behind them. His mind is racing, calculating. “Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. Uh…huh. Yep. Love you too.”
His hand falls, the phone coming along with it as his eyes slowly peel open. He stares at the black screen for so long that I worry he might have malfunctioned.
“Ryatt?” I finally whisper.
His eyes snap to mine, glistening with tears and determination. He looks like someone who fears he might lose everything, and that’s scarier than him just walking away.
“Berry…do you trust me?”
Shakily, I say, “yes” on a breath.
His eyes soften—just for a moment—before that urgency flickers back into place. “Will you come with me? Believe everything you see and give me a chance to explain everything?”
I take a hesitant step back. My throat tightening. “What do you mean by that?” I whisper. “What’s happening?”
He steps forward, closing the distance I’d created, his hands finding mine. His palms are warm, grounding, but his voice trembles with something close to desperation.
“Don’t be scared, Holly,” he says quietly. “I have to go home—but where I’m going isn’t a city you’ve ever been to, read about, or even know exists.” His fingers squeeze mine, like he’s trying to tether me to him before I can drift away. “I just need you to trust me. You mean everything to me, and I need you right now. Can you do that?”
The room feels as if it’s sucked in a breath, waiting for my answer. My pulse thrums in my ears as his words settle between us.
Not a city I’ve ever heard of? Not a place I know?
Every part of me wants to ask questions—so many questions—but the look in his eyes silences them all. Fear and hope live there side by side, and both are pleading with me to say yes.
I look around my apartment at the meager belongings I have. To Chester, who’s sitting on the back of the couch watching this whole thing play out.
My eyes slide back to Ryatt’s. “I’ll come but on one condition.”
His eyes light up. “Name it.”
“Chester has to come along.”
Chapter Twelve
Oh Deer, We Aren’t In Manhattan Anymore
Holly
One second I’m standing in my living room clutching Chester to my chest as he howls , and the next — whoosh—everything disappears. There’s wind, colors, lights, and what I can only describe as a peppermint-scented roller coaster from hell.
“Ryatt!” I scream as Chester joins in. I’m sure I’m clinging to Ryatt the same way Chester is clinging to me.
It’s over in seconds, but my stomach is still spinning when my boots hit the snow-covered ground. My knees give out, and I almost fall. Thankfully, Ryatt is there to catch me again. When my eyes adjust to world around me, it’s as if we landed in a snowglobe.
Not metaphorically, literally.
There’s snow falling gently in the air that never actually lands, shimmering lights that float like fireflies, and a cozy village straight out of a gingerbread ad. The air smells like cinnamon, pine, and something sweet I can’t quite put my finger on—as if this entire village is one giant bakery.
“Welcome to Sugarplum Hollow,” Ryatt says behind me, his voice soft but laced with a nervous edge.
I turn around, blinking. “This is a joke, right? Like, someone built a entire Christmas village instead of just decorating their own home?”
He smiles faintly, but it’s strained. There’s worry etched in every part of his body. “No, Berry. This is…home.”
The cobblestones beneath my feet look like marshmallows floating in hot cocoa as the path weaves into town. A wooden arch sits above the path with a wooden sign arched from one side to the other. Just like a gingerbread house, its lined in a wavy white line that glistens like sugar crusted icing.
But in the center in a soft, bubbly text it says “Welcome to Sugarplum Hollow”. I squint my eyes, taking a step closer, not believing what I’m reading.
