Chapter 21

21

JACE

J ace waited in the alley under the stairs leading to Felicity’s flat above her bakery, his heart thrumming with a cocktail of excitement and trepidation as he watched Felicity exit her bakery. She locked the door behind her, oblivious to his presence. A mischievous spark ignited within him; he couldn't resist the urge to lighten the mood, to see her smile. It was her smile that often kept him going.

With deft movements, his hands scooped up the powdery snow, packing it lightly into a perfect sphere. His pulse quickened as he aimed and let it fly, watching as it arced through the twilight and playfully exploded against her oversized coat.

"Jace!" Felicity exclaimed, startled, a laugh bubbling from her lips despite the shock. Her eyes danced with mirth, and for a moment, they were just two souls entwined in a wintery spell. "You're going to pay for that."

The warmth in her voice seeped into him, thawing the cold fingers of doubt that had been clutching at his heart. She was here with him now, real and vibrant and utterly captivating. Jace scooped another handful of snow, anticipation tingling in his veins.

"Come on, Felicity," he coaxed, his voice low and playful. "Show me what you've got."

Her cheeks flushed pink with the cold and the thrill of the chase, and she bent down, gathering her own ammunition. The snowball whizzed past him, close enough for him to feel its icy breath as he ducked. He chuckled, dodging and weaving, the world reduced to this enchanting dance between them.

But beneath the laughter, an undercurrent of turmoil churned. Felicity's normally happy gaze held a flicker of something else—conflict, fear. It was there in the slight tremor of her hands, the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. And Jace felt it, too—the weight of unspoken words, the gravity of emotions yet to be laid bare.

"Gotcha!" Felicity's triumphant cry pulled him back as a snowball hit its mark, dampness seeping through his flannel shirt.

"Fair shot," Jace conceded, brushing off the snow. His heart ached to bridge the distance that loomed between them, to understand the depths of whatever her struggle might be. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, promise her that whatever haunted her thoughts, didn’t have the power to beat them. They were a team, and he would be of as much support to her as she had been to him.

"Jace..." Her voice trailed off, laden with a thousand unsaid things. The earnestness in her eyes pierced through him, a silent plea for... what? Understanding? Patience?

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, stepping closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m not hurt.”

“We need to talk…” she started as a shiver ran through her that he sensed wasn't from the cold, and she looked away, the stark contrast between whatever inner chaos was plaguing her and the serene snowfall around them not lost on Jace. He reached out, hesitant, his fingers hovering just shy of her arm.

"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out," he murmured, the words more a vow to himself than to her. He needed her to believe it, too—that in the labyrinth of their tangled emotions, they would figure out and put right whatever was wrong.

Jace followed Felicity up the narrow staircase leading to her flat, the warmth from their playful skirmish still tingling in his veins. He watched the gentle sway of her hips and felt an urge to touch them, to drag her into bed the moment he got her behind closed doors. The intimacy of the moment swelled within him, a delicate dance of proximity and the promise of what they seemed to be building.

"Make yourself comfortable," Felicity said, pushing open the door as she shrugged off her coat, revealing the curve of her shoulders draped in her oversized sweater that whispered of many evenings spent reading in her comfy chair by the window.

For some reason, the atmosphere hummed with an unspoken tension, a prelude to conversation Jace was beginning to dread.

Felicity hesitated, her silhouette framed by the twinkling lights that hung about her window. "Jace, there's something I need to tell you," she began, fingers nervously tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "It's going to sound unbelievable."

"Try me." His chuckle was light, but it masked a roiling curiosity. "I've heard some pretty wild tales in my time."

She took a deep breath, the blue of her eyes darkening like a stormy sea. "I'm not from here. Not from this... reality."

The laughter that burst from Jace was spontaneous, a reflex born of disbelief. "What is this? I thought you wanted to write romance novels, not time travel or science fiction." He expected her to laugh or smile and then reveal the joke.

But Felicity stood motionless, her gaze earnest and unwavering. "No, Jace. This isn't fiction. It's the truth. I come from an alternate reality."

His mirth faded, the lingering echo of his laughter suddenly hollow in the quiet room. He searched her face for any sign of deceit, for the familiar crinkle of humor around her eyes, but found none. "You're serious?"

"Completely." Her voice was a whisper, yet it carried the weight of galaxies, of possibilities that tore at the fabric of everything he knew.

Reality tilted, and Jace felt as if the ground beneath him had turned to glass, fragile and translucent, ready to shatter with the slightest misstep. In the span of a heartbeat, the woman before him was transformed from a kindred spirit to a mystery as vast as the night sky.

"Alternate reality..." The words tasted strange on his tongue, an exotic flavor that he wasn't sure he liked. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to anchor himself to something tangible. "Seriously?” She nodded. “But how? Why are you here?"

Felicity moved closer, her presence a beacon in the disorienting revelation. "It's a long story, one that involves more than just me. In my reality, I’m a novelist. I fell asleep one night at my computer, and when I woke up, I was here in Christmas Valley—the setting for my debut novel. And then I met you, and everything became so real and so much more than I ever imagined. And now, I might have to leave to save what I've found."

"Save?" Jace repeated, his thoughts spinning. "Felicity, this is... I don't even know where to begin with this."

"Neither did I," she admitted, her vulnerability laid bare, "but I had to tell you. Because whatever happens next, whatever choice I make—it affects you, too."

In the silence that followed, Jace realized as she told him everything that the impossible had unfolded before him, not through tales told under starlit skies, but in the quiet confession of a woman whose heart held worlds he had never imagined. And as the magnitude of her revelation settled over him, the once-sturdy walls of his reality crumbled, leaving him standing on the brink of the unknown.

Jace's fingers traced the frost that clung to the windowpane, his gaze lost in the swirling snowflakes outside. The flakes danced like restless spirits against the glass, a crisp reminder of the chilling possibility that Felicity might be telling the truth and would somehow vanish into some other reality.

"You don’t have to leave. We’ll find another way," he said, turning away from the cold and back toward the warmth of her presence. His voice was gravel, imbued with a quiet plea. "You can't just... disappear on me."

Felicity looked up from where she sat, her eyes reflecting the twilight. "Jace, I wish it were that simple." Her voice trembled like a leaf clinging to a branch in autumn, ready to fall at the slightest gust of wind. "There's a balance, a delicate thread that is holding the two realities together. If I stay, it could spell disaster for you and everyone else."

He knelt before her, taking her hands in his, their touch sparking a current that always felt both exhilarating and grounding. "Tell me, then," he urged gently, "what do you need to do? How do we keep you here without tearing apart your... your other reality? Do you even know if it still exists?"

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate, as though the truth was too bitter on her tongue. "I don’t understand all of it. I just don’t know that this is where I belong. I think that if I go back, I rewrite the novel and save you and everyone else. I don’t know what will happen if I stay." She met his eyes, and he saw the unshed tears glistening like morning dew. "If I go back, I can finish the novel in a way that protects you and what's here."

Jace's heart thundered against his ribcage—a wild drumbeat echoing the turmoil that roiled within him. He couldn't fathom a world where the warmth of her touch, the luminescence of her smile, was torn away from him. Yet, the earnestness in her words etched a stark truth into the moment: Felicity believed her departure was the key to his and the village’s salvation.

"You think if you just leave somehow the rest of us will be all right?" His question was a whisper, a breath of air that held the weight of his world. "We won’t be. I won’t be."

"No, you will. It’ll be like I was never here, and maybe the Felicity that I replaced will be the one you’re supposed to be with," she affirmed softly, squeezing his hands as if to anchor herself to him, even as destiny called her elsewhere.

His mind waged war with reality, with every rational thought that told him this was madness—yet his heart bled with the knowledge that she spoke her own kind of truth. And in the intimate space between them, Jace knew that no matter what, he would fight for her, for a love that transcended realities.

Jace released her hands, his fingers brushing the soft wool of her oversized sweater before he stood and pulled her closer. The scent of the bakery still clung to her, weaving its sweetness around him like a spell. His heart raced with an intensity that threatened to consume him whole.

"I love you, Felicity," he spoke into the quiet of her apartment, his voice roughened by the raw emotion clawing at his throat. "I can't stand the thought of you disappearing from my life. If you can’t stay here, I'll go back with you. We can start fresh in New York. I'm a chef—I can cook anywhere."

Felicity stilled in his arms, her breath hitching as she absorbed his words. Her bright eyes shimmered, reflecting the tangle of emotions that danced between hope and despair. Slowly, she extricated herself from his embrace, stepping back with a resolve that seemed to erect an invisible barrier between them.

"Jace, no." Her voice was gentle yet firm, the fidgeting of her fingers on her glasses betraying the storm within her. "I don’t even know if you could go with me. Besides, I can't let you sacrifice everything you've built here. The town... they've given so much to help you revive the lodge. Your dream is here, not in some alternate reality where we don't even know what awaits us."

Her words were like a bucket of ice water dousing the fire inside him. The people of Christmas Valley had indeed rallied behind him, their shared vision for the lodge's future binding them in a collective pursuit of something greater than themselves. How could he turn his back on that? Yet, how could he let go of the woman who'd redefined the very essence of his world?

"But without you...” he began, the plea evident in his tone.

"Without me, you will keep thriving," she interrupted, her voice laced with conviction. "You're strong, Jace. And your strength will be the beacon this town needs to continue shining, even through the harshest winters."

In that moment, Jace understood the depth of her courage. Felicity Hart, the woman who had stepped through the veil of impossibility, was prepared to walk back into uncertainty for the sake of others. And though his soul ached at the thought of losing her, he knew he couldn't ask her to forsake her purpose for his own selfish desires.

"Okay," he whispered, the word barely audible over the thumping of his heart. "Okay, Felicity."

Their hands found each other once again, holding on for one timeless second, as if the entire universe had conspired to grant them this fleeting connection—a taste of what could have been, and what might never be.

The silence between them stretched, a chasm that ached to be filled with words left unsaid. Jace watched the conflict play across Felicity's face, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions he could barely comprehend. She was a tempest wrapped in the warmth of an oversized sweater, her curls framing her face like a halo.

"Was any of this real for you?" His question hung in the air, heavy and charged.

Felicity flinched as if his words were physical blows. "Jace," she whispered, her voice trembling, "how can you even...”

"Because I haven't heard you say it," he cut in, his own vulnerability clawing at him. His eyes searched for truth in hers, desperate to find the connection he feared was slipping away.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the moment shattered as a gust of wind howled past the windows of her flat, sending shivers through their already fragile bond. Before the words could form on her lips, before she could lay bare her soul, Jace turned away from her, a knot of confusion and yearning tightening in his chest.

He couldn't watch her struggle with her feelings, not when every fiber of his being screamed for her to stay. With each step that took him farther from her bakery, from her, he felt the threads of what they'd built begin to unravel. The lodge awaited him, a sanctuary that now seemed too distant, too cold without her presence.

As he walked, the snow crunched beneath his boots, the sound a harsh reminder of the reality he was about to face—a world where the magic of Felicity Hart might no longer exist.