Page 99

I can only watch as the taillights disappear into the darkness, so instead of chasing, I finish the piece of shit standing in front of me first.

"Brett." I press the ring back into his hand and fold his fingers over it. "The wedding didn't end because of a joke. It didn't end because of the inheritance, and it certainly didn't end because of him." I nod toward the empty drive. "It ended because you never knew me. You didn't care. For five years, you never once asked what I wanted—not for dinner, not in bed, not for my life. You expected to marry a woman you could walk all over just to get what you wanted. Every. Single. Day."

"Audrey—"

"And I'm not apologizing. Not to you, not to my mother, not to anyone who cared more about the wedding than whether I was happy in it."

He stares at me like I'm speaking a foreign language, which I suppose I am.

It's called no, and I'm fucking fluent now.

"So that's it," he says finally. "You're throwing away our entire life… for a hockey player?!"

"No." I smile, and fuck, it feels good. "I'm not throwing anything away. I'm choosing the first man who ever made me want to share my life."

Brett looks at the mud on his shoes, at the bonfire, at the farm full of laughing strangers, and finds nothing here that belongs to him. He leaves with the ring and the last of my doubt.

I turn toward the barn, needing a spare vehicle to chase Miles.

Hunter appears beside me, breathing hard with his hands on his knees. "Audrey, I tried to chase him after I unloaded the wagon. I nearly caught him at the gate, but he drove off before I could get a word in." He grimaces. "Want me to call him?"

"Not yet." I look down the drive and what I see makes me smile. “Right now, people are waiting for me.”

Hunter follows my gaze and we both stand there watching the second shuttle from the resort cresting the hill. Headlights glow as another van full of families looks through the windows to see the farm magic they've been promised.

And I have learned exactly one thing this Christmas that I refuse to unlearn now:

Nobody decides how I live my life.

Not Brett. Not Miles.

Me.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my glove, plant a smile on my face, and walk toward the shuttle doors as they open.

“Welcome to Stratton Family Christmas Trees! Cider’s by the bonfire, the next wagon ride leaves in ten, and when you find your perfect tree, grab the nearest handsome Stratton and make him do the heavy lifting.”

Chapter 19

Miles

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’ve been parked in the resort’s valet circle for fifteen minutes swearing at myself while snow gathers across the windshield and the goddamn Christmas lights won't stop fucking flashing.

A bellhop staffer in flashing reindeer antlers has walked past three times, each lap slightly slower than the last, probably still hoping I’m an extravagant guest preparing to reward him for carrying my luggage.

Unfortunately, I have no luggage.

I have a car that's not even mine, an abandoned wedding dress and both hands locked around the steering wheel like it is the only object preventing me from driving directly into another snowbank.

Fuck.

Every time I blink, the same picture plays across my eyes. Some fucking guy in a fancy coat holding Audrey's hand around a ring, like a magician who just got his girl back.

Her ex-fiancé.