“And?” I make a gesture for him to keep going.
“And they decided that for all intents and purposes, you did get married. Regardless of your relationship with Mr. Landry, the marriage documents were legitimate and thereforefulfilled the requirement to transfer the deed. Besides, his public statement would be enough to fall back on if ever it was challenged. You can keep the café, Poppy.”
Relief floods through me, every muscle, every cell taking a deep and heavy sigh.
Craig hands me his pen, and I mark my name in my loopy lettering on the blank line. Officially making me the owner of Aunt Dahlia’s café. It’s mine.
Tears burn behind my eyes, and I can’t tell if I want to cry tears of joy, scream and shout, or run around outside telling everyone I pass that I get to keep Thistle + Thorne. All I know is that I want to tell someone, I want to celebrate.
But the only person I want to celebrate with is Jett.
My heart drops, thinking about where he is right now, if he’s letting himself fall into the same pit of despair he did when he injured himself last season. If he’s losing himself to the hopelessness like he did last time. I know I shouldn’t be worrying about Jett anymore. He told me to stay far away, though I can’t help it.
Craig has started packing up his things, gingerly tucking the forms I signed into his folder.
“Oh, there was one more thing.” He pulls an envelope from his briefcase.
The familiar handwriting spelling out my name makes my chest pinch.
“Your aunt left you this letter, I meant to give it to you, but I misplaced it.”
I take the letter from him, and fold it in half, stuffing it in my apron pocket with a grateful nod. Regardless of the contents, reading it is bound to make me emotional, and I’m not sure that’s something I can handle. Not with the alreadywounded state my heart is in. I’ll take the win today, my name on the deed soothing me for now.
Craig stands, extending a hand for me to shake but his gaze flicks over to the TV in the corner behind me.
“Ah. That’s nice, it looks like you both got what you wanted in the end, after all,” he says, before he turns and starts toward the door.
I look over at the TV now, and Jett’s name flashes on the banner across the news channel, but I’ve missed the rest of the headline. I run behind the counter and grab the remote to turn up the volume, just as the reporter is reading the story.
“In a surprising turn of events, pro-skier Jett Landry is officially back in the running for this year’s Big Air World Cup, despite losing his major sponsorship in a highly publicized fallout. With no corporate backing, many expected the 30-year-old phenom to sit out of the final entirely. But in a move no one saw coming, Landry has secured a last minute lifeline, a private sponsorship from former World Cup champion Dan Kessler. With this unexpected backing, Landry will return to the starting gate, against all odds, and with the entire ski world watching.”
He did it. Jett made it to Zermatt, and I don’t need to wonder if he’ll win. I know he will, I feel it all the way down to my bones. A warm feeling spreads behind my ribs, because we did both get what we wanted. In spite of the setbacks, speculation, and heartbreak, we did it.
Yet, as happy as I am that everything worked out for us both, there’s still a cavernous hole in my chest. Because this isn’t the happy ending I really wanted.
But it’s done now, and this was how it was alwayssupposed to end. With me running Thistle + Thorne, and him, jet-setting around the world dominating at his sport. That was the beauty of this arrangement. We were never supposed to work in real life.
And now there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.
“Before you go,” I say to Craig, and he stops just short of the door and turns around. “I need help with one more thing.”
He tilts his head, waiting for me to elaborate.
It’s strange. I never could have predicted that the hardest part about our marriage would be ending it. After all, I was the one who was initially resistant to having a relationship with Jett at all. But now, I swallow a sob in order to get the words out.
“I need you to draw up divorce papers.”
CHAPTER 44
POPPY
By the timeEthan has come to relieve me and take over for the closing shift, I’m bone tired and can barely drag my feet up the stairs to my apartment. I’m grateful he’s been feeling better, because I don’t think I could tolerate another full day, working from open to close.
My joints are screaming from being on my feet all day, my wrists and hands aching from carrying heavy milk jugs back and forth from the fridge.
Even though I should be elated that I’ve secured the deed, that the café is officially mine, there’s an undeniable weight on my shoulders, a black cloud looming over what should have been a perfect day. A bluebird day, as Jett would call it.
Any joy I should be soaking in after my meeting with the lawyer today is overshadowed by the fact that he’s probably busy drawing up divorce papers. My divorce papers, that will officially and irrevocably end my relationship with Jett.
