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He blinks. "What are you talking about? What hallway?"

"The morning of the wedding I came to surprise you in my dress." I watch the color start to leave his face. "Maybe it serves me right for breaking tradition, but when I was standing there outside your suite, I heard you tell Marcus you'd never had wild chemistry with me. But that's exactly why I'd make a good wife."

"Audrey, that's not what I meant."

"You said I was beautiful and easy. That I was unlikely to disrupt anything." The words come out steady, which surprises me, because they used to cut on the way up. "And then your best man said the million-dollar inheritance you were getting for settling down might make it easier to accept that I'm shit in bed."

Brett goes to say something, but he knows it's not worth it.

"And stupid me, I stood there and watched, waiting for you to stand up for me." I shake my head and glare at him. "But instead, you just high-fived him."

"That was—Audrey, that was a stupid joke. Guys talk like that, it didn't mean—"

"You high-fived him, Brett. On our wedding day. At my expense."

"And you blew up two families' Christmas over locker-room talk?! You disappeared to a—" he gestures at the glorious chaos around us, at the mud and the marshmallows and the bonfire smoke, "—to a derelict farm and you're serving cider in the snow like this is a life—"

"It is a life!" I call out, louder than I should. "And it's mine now. Not yours to control."

Over Brett's shoulder, I see another sedan.

But this time, it's my sedan, rolling up the drive past the barn.

My heart drops through the mud because Miles is behind the wheel, fresh from practice, arriving to help exactly like he said he would.

I feel a glimmer of hope that this might all be over as Miles parks and gets out. But across the crowded farm, his eyes find me standing close beside the bonfire with a polished man in an expensive coat.

Brett chooses that exact moment to reach into his pocket.

“Look, Audrey. Your mother recovered this from the bridal suite.” He holds out my engagement ring. Two carats of a future designed for somebody else glitter in the firelight. “She wanted you to have it back. To remind you what we had. To think about it. About us.”

“There is nothing to think—”

He takes my hand before I can finish and places the ring in my palm, folding my fingers around it.

Over his shoulder, Miles's gaze sees Brett’s hand wrapped around mine. Then the diamond disappearing inside my fist.

Our eyes meet across the crowded yard.

Oh, no.

Miles goes completely still.

This morning, he told me our arrangement should end at Christmas. He told me I hadn’t faced the life waiting beyond this resort, and now that life is standing in front of me wearing a stupid expensive coat and returning the future I abandoned.

From where Miles stands, it probably looks as though he was right.

“Miles! Wait!”

And of course, at the worse possible moment, the farm wagon rolls between us, filled with laughing children and an entirely fictional story coming from Hunter about a Christmas bear. By the time it passes, Miles is already climbing back into my car.

I shove the ring at Brett and run two steps toward the drive, but it's no use. My car reverses through the snow before I can reach it. Miles is already gone down the drive so fast there's no point in chasing him.

“Who the hell is that?” Brett asks.

"The person I should be talking to instead of you!"

"He was the one in the photo. The stupid hockey player smiling at you."