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And even if I am falling in love with three men, I can’t let the festival fall by the wayside.

Without another word, I exit the room, brushing past Marcus as he comes back in.

He’s staring at Cole, a dark scowl on his face.

I hurry to the bathroom, locking myself in the stall with a shaky breath.

Dios mío.

I text the Sugarplums group chat: You guys have to try Season’s Greedings. All of you.

I put the phone back in my purse even as it starts to ding, grinning.

If I could, I’d sing Season’s Greedings’ praises from the rooftops.

This is all I’ve ever wanted.

I just hope I can keep it after this holiday is over.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

GABE

Ipace around the lobby of Hollow Pine. The vineyard I’d bought after Lois died. The place I tried to entomb myself in, stay hidden from the world.

The first year was bad. The second year was worse.

By the third, I started forgetting things about her. What color her favorite sweater was. The way her skin felt under my palms. The exact weight of her small hand in mine.

There are things I’ll always remember. The exact shade of her gray eyes, almost blue in the right light, but not quite. The way her red curls bounced around her face. She always kept her hair short, did nothing but run a comb through it in the morning.

My heart aches to remember, but I cherish it. Even cherish the pain, if I’m honest.

Because it means it was real. It means she was here. It means I loved her.

Sometimes it still feels like a dream I never woke up from.

Getting the call at four in the morning, having walked the halls all night after our fight, sure she was leaving me.

“I regret to inform you…”

“I’m sorry, but… You need to come to Garland Falls General. To… identify the remains.”

The remains. Not Lois.

I try not to remember how she looked after. How I looked down into her still face and realized I’d never see her gray eyes open again.

For years, I blamed myself. Blamed the fight we had, how upset she was. To this day I don’t remember what it was about.

All I remember are the tears streaming down her face, how she packed a bag and I kept trying to unpack it. How she left in the rain.

But in the end, I realized the only person to blame was the driver who hit her. He died in the crash, drunk off his ass. I hope it hurt. I hope he burned alive.

Now it’s been five years. Feels like yesterday. Feels like a lifetime ago.

I draw in a shaky breath, checking my watch. I’ve been gone nearly an hour. I need to get back.

God knows what happened while I was gone. I’ve been trying not to think about how Margo sounded, what Marcus must have been doing…