Page 135 of Now and Then

I roll my eyes. “You guys are crazy. I’m the same Sutton I always am.”

“No, you’re different.” Navy’s tone leaves no room for argument. “From the moment I met you, you’ve been smiley and happy, but it always felt like there was something else there. Like the happiness was a little forced. But then we went to Colorado, and, I don’t know, you seem more you than ever.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach. My first instinct is to deny, deny, deny. But there’s truth in her words. Up until recently, I don’t think I’ve ever been unapologetically myself. And now, for the first time in six years, I feel still. Settled. Like the edges of my world feel softened.

My hand rests over my heart. I think of Hunter. His touch. His kisses. A warmth spreads through my chest. I don’t know how long that feeling lasts. Only that it settles deep. A little light in a place inside me that had been dark for too long.

“I suppose I am more me now,” I say. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing.” Greer bumps my shoulder.

We fall into an easy rhythm building our houses that look progressively worse the more competitive we get.

Navy trash-talks Vinnie. Greer does that teacher thing and pretends not to care. Grace eats her front door. The room smells like cinnamon and home.

I press a peppermint into the roof of my gingerbread house and smile when it fits perfectly. For a moment, I feel free. Maybe I’m allowed to feel this, let myself be incandescently happy without thinking about the what-ifs.

The tree lights blur into soft gold across the room, and laughter fills every corner.

Vinnie looks between my gingerbread house and his own. “Allowing an interior designer and professional baker into this competition is really unfair.” He steals a piece of licorice from Greer. She elbows him in the ribs at the same time Navy chucks a handful of M&Ms at his face.

“Luke,” Grace calls from the head of the table, “your phone’s ringing.”

Luke steps around the island and grabs his phone off the sideboard. “Hello.”

Just as all-out war is about to erupt over who’s the winner of the gingerbread house competition, Luke’s expression shifts.

“This is him. Who’s speaking?”

Luke’s gaze catches mine. I stand from my chair, shushing everyone at the table.

“How can I help you, Ashley?”

His face morphs into something I can’t quite name, and he braces his hand on the back of the couch.

“Hunter?” Luke says.

The name lands in the middle of the room like an anvil.

Every eye turns to Luke, but his eyes remain locked on mine.

Something is wrong.

“We’re on the way. What room are you?” Luke says, wheeling around to grab his keys from the basket on the counter.

The rest of us go still in the glow of the Christmas lights.

Luke pauses at the edge of the island and looks back at me.

His eyes snap shut.

My stomach drops before he even speaks.

“Already am,” Luke repeats quietly, answering whoever’s on the other end of the line.

He goes still listening.

“What happened?” he asks a second later.