Page 15 of Forever In Willow Creek
Winter came gently to Willow Creek.
The leaves had long since fallen, blanketing the sidewalks in crisp gold and brown. Twinkling lights lined every storefront, and wreaths hung from porch railings and lamp posts. The town had a way of making even the quietest days feel special.
Zoe stood behind the counter at Sweet Bloom Flowers , arranging a holiday bouquet for one of Mae’s last-minute party requests.
Her hands moved quickly, clipping stems, fluffing pine, tucking in deep red roses—while soft jazz played on the radio.
She’d become something of a regular fixture at the shop, helping Sarah a few days a week while freelancing part-time for a small consulting agency out of Asheville.
No more long commutes.
No more corporate marathons.
Just time.
Time to think. To breathe. To love.
The bell over the door jingled, and Zoe looked up, already smiling.
Luke stepped inside, cheeks pink from the cold. He wore that old navy work jacket she loved and held two steaming cups of cider.
“You’re late,” she teased.
“I’m exactly on time,” he said, setting one of the cups beside her. “I waited until Mae left. I like having you to myself.”
Zoe chuckled. “Mae’s convinced we’re getting engaged next spring.”
“Well, she’s not wrong.”
Zoe froze mid-bouquet. “What?”
Luke shrugged like it was the most casual thing in the world. “I mean, I haven’t asked yet. But I’ve got a few ideas.”
She blinked at him, heart suddenly racing. “You do?”
He leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry. I won’t do it here, surrounded by floral foam and pine sap. I’m not completely hopeless.”
She tossed a sprig of holly at him, laughing. “You’re dangerously close.”
They sipped cider in companionable silence for a few minutes before Luke reached across the counter and took her hand.
“You happy?” he asked softly.
Zoe looked at him—really looked—and felt the truth settle deep in her chest.
“I didn’t know I could be,” she whispered. “Not like this.”
“Good,” he said, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. “Because I’m thinking about tearing down that shed behind the garage and building something real. With a porch. Maybe a garden.”
Zoe tilted her head. “What kind of something?”
“A home.”
He let the word hang in the air between them.
“And I want you in it.”
Her throat tightened. Not from fear. Not from doubt. But from the overwhelming sense of rightness.
“I’m in,” she said, voice steady.
The following weekend, they stood beneath a snow-dusted arbor at the Winter Market, handing out cider and laughing as Granny Mae heckled every couple within earshot.
Sarah had made Zoe a wreath crown. Luke wore a pine-scented flannel.
Zoe swore she’d accidentally set on fire if he didn’t retire it soon.
They weren’t perfect.
They had bills and work and the occasional misunderstanding about laundry or forgotten dinner plans.
But they had each other.
They had morning walks. Shared coffee. Grease-streaked kisses in the garage and evenings tangled together on the cottage porch swing. They had a love that wasn’t flashy—but it was honest. Earned.
As the snow began to fall and the last of the vendors packed up their booths, Luke pulled Zoe close.
“This still feel like the wrong life?” he whispered.
She smiled up at him, eyes bright with all the things she never had to chase anymore.
“No,” she said. “This feels like forever.”
And in Willow Creek, forever didn’t have to be big.
It just had to be true .