MasukThe walk home felt longer than usual.
Snow Brook Valley was glowing, literally. Every lamp post had a wreath, every porch had fairy lights, every window flickered with warm yellow bulbs. It should have warmed Melody’s heart. It should’ve made her feel wrapped in the magic she used to breathe so easily.
Instead, the cold cut deeper tonight.
Her boots crunched over the fresh layer of snow as she reached her apartment building. She paused, looking up at the lights dangling above her door. Brandon hung them every December. It was their tradition. But this year, he put them up alone, quietly on a random night she came home late from the bakery.
He didn’t even wait for her.
She pushed the thought away as she stepped into their apartment. The moment she closed the door behind her, a hush settled. An empty hush. The kind that echoed.
She slipped off her coat, her fingers stiff from the cold, and headed straight to the kitchen. Cooking always calmed her. Maybe tonight, it would silence the ache too.
She gathered ingredients, set water to boil, chopped onions, stirred sauce movements she knew by heart. Something simple, comfortable. Pasta. Brandon loved pasta. She hoped maybe tonight he’d come home early, maybe he’d sit with her and they’d talk.
As she reached for the turkey in the fridge, a knock sounded on the front door. Sharp and unexpected. Melody frowned. Who could it be at this hour?
She wiped her hands on her apron and went to answer it.
A deliveryman stood outside, bundled in a thick jacket and hat.
“Package for Mr. Brandon,” he said, holding out an electronic pad for her to sign.
“Oh,” Melody blinked. “Sure. He’s… he’s not home yet. I can sign.”
She scribbled her name, accepted the sleek box, and closed the door behind her.
The moment she turned, her heart gave a strange little kick. She didn't know what it was, it felt like a box. A small box.
She placed it gently on the kitchen counter. A whisper of instinct rippled through her.
Don’t touch it.
But another voice pushed louder, maybe it was a surprise and she'll ruin the surprise if she opens the box. Her chest tightened. When they first started dating, Brandon was the king of surprises, flowers “just because,” ice cream bowls delivered to her shop, goofy handwritten notes tucked in her coat pocket. He’d make her smile until her cheeks hurt.
Those moments felt like someone else’s memories now.
She looked at the package again.
What if he was trying to bring that man back? What if he bought her something for Christmas?
But then reality stung her harder, he's been complaining he had no money.
Claiming the construction company was delaying payments, he couldn’t lend her anything for the bakery.
Those claims felt heavy now, as she stared at a box that screamed money.
She chewed her lip.
“What harm is a peek?” she whispered to no one.
She slowly opened the outer packaging, revealing a jewelry box. The box was matte black with embossed silver lettering luxurious, heavy in her hands. Not from any local store, this was from Boss Jewelers, one of the priciest luxury jewelry shops in the region.
Her breath caught.
Brandon couldn’t even afford to help her with a little cash for her electricity bill last week.
Why was he buying her such expensive jewelry? Early wedding present? She felt an inexpressible excitement, tightened inside her as she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a bracelet so stunning it could steal breath. Silver intertwined with rose-gold filigree. Delicate diamonds winking like frozen stars.
It was exquisite.
Her heart swelled and broke at the same time.
But then she saw the engraving.
She leaned closer.
"To Suzie, my one true love.”
The world fell out beneath her.
Her hands trembled so violently she almost dropped the bracelet.
Suzie?
Her throat constricted, breath thinning, pulse hammering. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Brandon wasn’t this man. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t…
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Maybe it was a mistake. People ordered gifts all the time during Christmas, mistakes happened. Mix-ups happened.
The bracelet couldn't be for him. Not with those words.
Maybe the name on the package was wrong. Maybe it was for someone else.
Maybe the courier mixed up the apartments.
She forced herself to breathe, to think. She carefully, precisely, repacked everything, placed the bracelet back in its cushion, closed the box, wrapped the outer layer exactly how it came, pressing the tape where it originally folded.
Her heart was still slamming against her ribs as she set the package on the counter.
She tried to resume cooking, tried to pretend nothing happened, but her hands shook as she stirred the sauce. Her mind kept replaying the words.
To Suzie
my one true love.
Each repetition cut deeper.
She was still staring blankly at the boiling pot when the front door opened.
“Hey,” he said, his tone flat. Tired. Stiff. Not the man she fell in love with.
“Hi,” Melody replied quietly. “You’re home early tonight.”
He shrugged off his jacket. “The weather got bad fast. The boss told us to close early.”
She studied him. He didn’t look like he’d spent the whole day on a construction site. He looked clean, too clean.
Her heart crawled up her throat.
She forced a smile and nodded toward the counter.
“You have a package.”
His eyes flicked to it.
And for a fraction of a second just a tiny, tiny second, Melody saw something raw flash across his face.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
“Oh,” Brandon said lightly. “Yeah. Work stuff.”
“Work stuff?” she repeated softly.
He picked up the box too quickly.
“Yeah. Just some materials we’re using for the new project.”
She swallowed.
Materials. From a luxury jewelry company.
For a construction project. But she said nothing.
Her voice would betray her.
He turned to head upstairs when she finally found her courage.
“Brandon?”
He paused on the first step.
“Hm?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the dinner party tomorrow? The one at Mr. Callahan’s new house.”
He froze.
Enough for someone who loved him to notice.
He turned slowly.
“What dinner party?”
Her stomach twisted.
Why was he lying?
“Cynthia told me,” Melody said softly. “She came by the bakery today.”
Brandon blinked, searching for an excuse, his fingers tightening slightly around the package.
“Oh. Oh, that.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. I… forgot to mention it. Been busy. Work’s been…”
“Stressful,” Melody finished for him. “You’ve said that.”
His jaw twitched.
“I’m not lying,” he muttered, defensive in a way that hurt.
She forced a small nod. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, retreating up the stairs.
She watched him go.
The man she loved. The man she was supposed to marry in twenty-three days.
The man who used to be her safe place.
Now he felt like a stranger holding secrets in the palm of his hand.
She turned back to the stove, stirring the pasta mechanically. Her mind was an avalanche, too many thoughts, too many fears, too much silence.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her.
Her heart already knew.
Something was wrong.
And the bracelet was only the beginning.
The moment the private jet touched down in Paris, Melody felt it. She was freezing. It wasn’t subtle. It slipped through the seams of comfort and wrapped around her bones the second the aircraft door opened. She instinctively pulled her thick jacket tighter around herself, silently thanking herself for listening when she packed it. New York cold had nothing on this. This was sharp, clean, biting but not unpleasant. Like she had truly arrived somewhere else.The runway was busy but calm, the kind of quiet efficiency that came with money and order. There was no rush, no crowd, no shouting. Just movement that made sense. Men in dark coats waited beside sleek black SUVs, doors already open, engines humming softly as if they’d been waiting the whole day for their arrival.She turned around her slowly, taking it all in.“Welcome to Paris mama,” Logan whispered softly into her ears as she smiled.This was her life. Right now.Logan stepped beside her, naturally placing a hand at her lower b
Melody zipped her suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, staring at it like she didn’t quite believe what she’d just done. Packed and ready to fly to Paris, the word still felt unreal in her mouth. She hadn’t packed much, Logan had told her to pack light, and for once, she listened. A few dresses she hadn’t worn yet, tags still intact. Two pairs of heels, flats, comfortable sneakers. A jacket she loved, it was a gift from her mum and she remembered how many months it took her mother to save up for this jacket. Since people always talked about how romantic Paris is, she figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to dress romantic while in Paris.She was done packing in no time, and then she got dressed. She wore her comfortable sweatpants, a matching sweatshirt, her coat wrapped snug around her shoulders, sneakers laced tight. She tied her hair back, glanced at her reflection, and smiled faintly.Logan already texted her that his driver would be picking her up soon, maybe in les
Melody stirred under the heavy weight of her blankets, her body still aching from last night’s exhaustion. She didn’t want to open her eyes. Not yet. Not because she didn’t want to face the day, but because she simply needed more time, more warmth, more silence. The sunlight crept lazily through the curtains, painting soft lines on her pillow. She could hear the faint hum of the city outside, cars, distant chatter, the occasional bark of a dog but it didn’t bother her. She was cocooned, tucked away from the world for just a few more minutes.Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She groaned, turning over to silence it, muttering a half-hearted, “Not now.” But the buzzing didn’t stop. A second, insistent ring forced her to roll over, groggy fingers fumbling for the device. She glanced at the screen and her heart sank slightly. It could be Logan, but it wasn’t.“Hello?” she croaked, voice thick with sleep.“Melody! My darling! Are you awake?” Cynthia’s voice came through, groggy but
Snow Brook Valley Snowbrook Valley was alive in the way only small towns knew how to be during Christmas. Not loud, not overwhelming just familiar. Everyone saying Merry Christmas, children running around, throwing snowballs at each other and making snowmen. Every coffee shop in town was overcrowded, and the fish market was packed. The town had a special meal they made with fresh fish and spicy soup.Brandon was exhausted and needed to rest and today was the town's Christmas nativity night. He would be attending because he just wanted to stay far away from Claudia. Their fights were becoming too much and it was exhausting.He stood in the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, staring at his reflection like it might give him answers. His shoulders sagged, exhaustion etched deep into his posture. It wasn’t physical tiredness. It was the kind that came from constant tension, from walking on eggshells, from conversations that always ended halfway because neither of them wanted to say
By the time Melody zipped up her coat, she could feel it deep in her chest, the kind of excitement that had nothing to do with noise or crowds and everything to do with memory. The kind that warmed you from the inside even when the weather tried its hardest to freeze you out.Tara was already pacing the living room, phone in hand, checking the time for the third time in two minutes.“Relax,” Melody said, laughing softly as she slipped her scarf around her neck. “We’re not late.”“I know,” Tara replied, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t like crowds, people bumping into me like they're kind of blind. And I hate the stupid traffic.”“That’s because you’re a grinch,” Melody teased.Tara shot her a look. “I work almost twenty hour shifts surrounded by sickness and death. I’m allowed to be a grinch.”Melody smiled, because that was Tara, sharp on the outside, soft where it mattered. She grabbed her gloves from the table and paused, looking at her friend.“You look really good,” Melody said s
The living room smelled like cinnamon, pine, and freshly baked sugar. Melody stepped back slowly, tilting her head as she examined the Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner of the room. It was tall, almost brushing the ceiling and drenched in warm fairy lights that glowed softly against the walls. Red and gold ornaments hung from every branch, some glittering, some matte, some shaped like tiny bells and snowflakes. Candy canes peeked out from between the needles, and a silver star crowned the very top.She smiled, hands on her hips, admiring the job they've just done.“This is so beautiful,” Melody said softly.Tara, who was kneeling on the rug with a box of ornaments beside her, scoffed lightly as she reached for another bauble. “I know, right? But honestly, I feel like it’s a little bit too much. There’s just… a lot going on.”Melody laughed, the sound light and musical, and dropped down beside her on the floor. “Girl, it’s Christmas. Nothing is too much this time of the y







