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They stood on Oak Way like that for a moment, the Christmas lights strung above them, the town quiet around them, and Emily fell apart more thoroughly than she’d planned to on a public street in December.
“Come on,” Cassidy said, keeping one arm around her shoulders and steering her gently down the street.
“I’m fine,” Emily said, which didn’t convince anyone.
“Of course you are.” Cassidy guided her left at the corner. “You’re also coming with me.”
“Not back to the Kettle,” Emily started to protest.
“No, back to my place. I told Madison and Zoe I’d break out the big guns.”
The Cocoa Corner wrapped Emily in a warm hug that she didn’t deserve.
Decorated with warm browns and soft creams, vintage teal and peppermint pink, the chocolate shop was utter perfection. Copper twinkle lights wound along the shelves, casting a warm glow against the glass jars of dipped caramels and handmade truffles, along with hundreds of other goodies: pralines, fudge-covered Oreos, peanut butter cups, maple fudge.
The smell hit her first—dark chocolate and something spiced and warm—it was a scent Emily had always associated with being taken care of. The little chalkboard sign on the counter read TODAY’S SPECIAL: PEPPERMINT BARK HOT COCOA in Cassidy’s rounded handwriting.
After filling up a shopping basket with a ridiculous amount of chocolate, Cassidy led Emily to her apartment upstairs, which was a Christmas wonderland. A six-foot glittery tree dominated the corner, draped in so many ornaments that the branches were just trying to hold on. She had a miniature ceramic tree on the end table. A ceramic village on the windowsill with glittery cotton for snow. Silver and gold throw pillows on the couch alongside blankets in deep red and forest green. Twinkle lights outlined her entire living room, lighting the whole apartment in warm points of gold. The whole place smelled of cocoa and cinnamon candles, and it all simply worked. Emily didn’t know how or why, but it worked.
Muff greeted them in the kitchen. The goldendoodle wagged her tail and pranced around excitedly as if Cassidy had been gone for days and not hours.
Emily sat on the couch. Muff immediately climbed up beside her, all seventy pounds of her, and planted her chin on Emily’s knee with a sigh.
Emily put her hand on Muff’s head and stared at the Christmas tree, trying to pull herself together.
Cassidy didn’t say anything yet. She continued working in the kitchen, and Emily could hear the sound of the cocoa going on, the clink of mugs, the soft scrape of a spoon. A few minutes later she appeared with a tray carrying two mugs, candy canes hooked over the rims, and chocolates of every shape and size for Emily to sample.
She sat down, handed Emily her mug, then pulled a blanket over both their laps.
Muff redistributed herself to cover as much of them both as possible.
They sat like that for a while.
“I’m an idiot,” Emily said into her mug.
“You’re not an idiot.”
“I just accused his grandfather of theft after he promised he didn’t do it.”
Cassidy bobbed her head, conceding the point. “You did do that.”
“In front of all of my friends.”
“Also true.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Can I say something?” Cassidy asked.
Emily knew from the way she asked that she wasn’t going to love it. “Go ahead.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”
Emily looked at her. “Done what?”
“Jumped to a conclusion. Gone from zero to catastrophe before the evidence was in.” Cassidy said it carefully, with the tone of someone who had been waiting for the right moment and had decided this was it. “You do it, Em. It’s a pattern. And I love you too much to pretend I haven’t noticed.”
“There aren’t any other suspects. What am I supposed to do—”
