Page 86 of A Winter Wish

“Are you OK?” the woman next to her on the plane asked, voice low. Only then did Lexie realize she was crying. She dashed the tears away, nodded her reassurance. She looked back at the letter. He’d known she’d go back. Somehow, her dad had known she wouldn’t quit—at least not permanently. She closed her eyes, tried to take a steadying breath. He’d remembered Iceland, remembered his promise to her. Theo had been right, she was sure of it—that was the reason the Iceland trip had never gotten off the ground. He’d been saving it—for her.

She folded the letter up, put it back inside the envelope. There was so much there. Things she needed time to process. Things, maybe, that she should have properly realized before now. Like the company being for her. Ange and Theo had both hinted at it, but she’d refused to accept it. But he’d been thinking of her when he started the company. He might not have known how to close the gap between them, but she thought she understood now how he was trying to make up for the past by creating a legacy for her for the future. He was right—none of this changed what had come before. But it was up to her how she moved forward, wasn’t it?

Chapter Thirty-three

Heat flooded into Lexie as she stepped inside, allowing her freezing muscles to relax. It was a pub in the center of Bath, one she’d walked past a few times. It had been, according to Ange, a favorite hangout of Richard’s, a place he used to take the staff to for after-work drinks on a Friday. There was a jovial, festive atmosphere, with many of the people wearing paper hats, having pulled crackers over an early Christmas lunch. The lighting was low, with fairy lights around the inside of the windows, where winter darkness had truly taken hold. It wasn’t yet six p.m., but people were already queuing at the bar, leaning against the wooden top.

Ange was in the corner, wearing a dress that was all sparkle. Lexie’s heart gave a kind of anticipatory lurch as she spotted her, then sank into her stomach when she saw Theo wasn’t there. Rachel was, though—a tall girl with sleek black hair sitting next to her. As was Harry, his tie sporting Christmas puddings, and her mum, in that one Christmas jumper she owned. As Lexie drew near, her mum got up to give her a hug, her honey-blond hair shorter than when Lexie had last seen her. Lexie breathed in the floral smell of her mum. She hadn’t thanked her enough—hadn’t been here enough to do it properly. But she could change that. She could make sure that she wouldn’t have any regrets where that was concerned.

Lexie slid into the booth next to Rachel as Ange beamed at her across the table, miming to show that she was going to the bar for more drinks. True to form, Ange was wearing big earrings, which swung as she got to her feet. Sailboats? Were they the same earrings she’d worn at the funeral? Funny, the things you remember.

“Thank you for being my plus one,” Lexie murmured to Rachel.

Rachel smiled at her. “Of course. Though I invited a plus one, too, so I’m not sure how that counts?” Rachel took the hand of the woman next to her, took a breath like she was gearing up. “Lexie, meet Lana, my future fiancée. Lana, meet my…” She broke off, cleared her throat—and Lexie felt a small pinch of guilt. “Meet Lexie.”

Lana beamed, a dimple winking out. She had the kind of infectious smile that made you want to smile with her, and slightly crooked teeth, to go with a fringe that looked like she might have cut it herself. Lexie instantly liked her.

“Hi. I’m Rachel’s sister.”

Rachel’s gaze flashed to Lexie’s face, and Lexie met it.

“I mean,” Lexie said warningly, “I’m not promising to be a great one. But I’m up for trying, if you are.”

There were tears sparking in Rachel’s eyes. “I’m so up for that,” she said, her voice a little thick.

Lexie cocked her head. “Do sisters hug? I think they hug.”

Rachel practically threw her arms around Lexie, who laughed and patted her back. When Rachel drew back, she was properly crying.

Next to her, Lana rolled her eyes, though she patted Rachel’s knee affectionately. “She does this.”

Lexie grinned. “I know.”

And that just made Rachel cry harder.

She had a sister, Lexie realized. A sister she wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for her dad. A sister she’d almost let pass her by because she’d been too afraid to reach out.

From where Lexie was sitting, she could see the door to the pub—and once again, she felt a rush of disappointment when it opened and it wasn’t Theo. It was someone else she knew, though, and she got to her feet to give Fran a hug. Gone were the smart business clothes she’d gotten so accustomed to seeing Fran in—instead she was in a bright multicolored jumper that reminded Lexie of the teenage Fran.

Lexie pulled back. “Fran, I’m—”

But Fran held up her hand. “We’ve been through this. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

Lexie blew out her cheeks but nodded. Then she cocked her head, looking for a lighter subject. “No date tonight?”

Fran tossed back her dark hair. “I haven’t been on a date since you left,” she said airily. And when Lexie’s eyebrows shot up, Fran waved a hand in the air. “It’s part of this whole figuring out what I want thing.”

Lexie grinned, but Fran was looking over Lexie’s shoulder now, and from the way her eyes slid back to her, Lexie knew who she’d seen. Fran gave Lexie’s arm a little squeeze, then moved away to join the group around the table.

Lexie’s heart hammered as she shifted. Theo was standing a few feet away, dead still, staring at her. Across the crowd, their gazes met, and held. Her breath was caught in her throat. Had he always been this fucking gorgeous? Had he always looked at her like this, like there could be any number of people in the room, and still he’d choose to look at her?

But then his lips pulled into a small smile, and he nodded. A hello—but not the hello she was looking for. And he turned—away from her, and toward the bar.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to stop the churn in her stomach. She’d known this might happen. She’d known he might not forgive her. Don’t run, he’d told her. But that’s just what she’d done, wasn’t it? She’d come back, yes—but what if she’d come back too late?

When Lexie turned back to the table, she saw Ange studying her. Her face softened into a smile, and she beckoned Lexie over, pouring out a glass of red wine from the bottle she’d brought to the table. Ange pulled out the chair next to her, moving someone’s coat off it, and Lexie sat down.

“Welcome home,” Ange said, raising her glass to Lexie’s to clink. Home. Maybe that was right. Maybe it had become home, without her realizing. And maybe it wouldn’t be home forever—maybe she’d never stem the desire to keep moving—but for now, it was enough. Just as she’d come to accept that Richard had changed over the course of his life, she realized it was OK if she changed, too.