Page 46 of The Comeback Road (Leaving #2)

Lexie

The faint sound of jingling bells drifted through the closed window and mingled with the aroma of cinnamon and pine that filled the house.

I still lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the familiar patterns of the plaster, and counting cracks to silence my thoughts.

Christmas was just a few hours away, but the excitement that floated through the house and buzzed around me just felt distant, like a melody I couldn’t place.

Rolling out of bed, I pulled the curtains aside again, letting the cold morning light spill into the room.

The snow outside still blanketed the world.

It was the perfect wonderland. Yet, as beautiful as it was, it only seemed to heighten the chill that settled in my chest. I used to love that season, every twinkling light, every carol sung.

But now, those memories felt tainted by the weight of my secrets and what I’d done.

My eyes flickered down to the porch, and I couldn’t help that pesky rush of warmth that seemed to erupt from my chest—something akin to forgotten joy.

Jace had transformed the space into a cozy haven.

Twinkling fairy lights strung above the swing he’d spent the night setting up.

Even in the early daylight, they cast a glow that seemed to mirror stars. Starlight , he’d called it.

The sight of it all finished in the morning light struck me, albeit softly, awakening a part of me that seemed to have been dormant for too long. I touched my fingers to my lips as I remembered the way I had smiled the night before; unguarded, unreserved, completely out of nowhere.

I saw a glimpse of Jace’s happiness at my smile.

The air between us had started to crackle with unspoken words, so I had made my way back to bed before I said or did something stupid.

The swing swayed slightly in the morning breeze, inviting me to go and sit, to feel .

It felt as if he had reached into the depths of my mind and soul to craft exactly what I needed, even if I hadn’t realized it yet.

And I longed to sink into that feeling. At that moment, I realized I hadn’t just smiled at the swing—I had smiled at the thought of him, the balm to my weary spirit, pulling me back to color from the shades of gray I’d been hiding in.

After a quick shower, I stood in front of my closet and pulled out an ugly Christmas sweater, which was a far cry from the ripped T-shirts I’d been wearing lately.

I could still pair this with my soft wool leggings.

Comfy…but…festive. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hair tousled, eyes shadowed.

But something flickered behind my iris’.

Something like…hope. Determination. Life.

I’d spent the past few weeks feeling like an intruder in my own life, caught between the joy of my family and the hollowed emptiness that accompanied me in my waking hours and dreams. But that morning…that morning, I felt more than I had in weeks.

“Lexie! Are you up? Would you like to come help with the setup?” Magnolia’s voice called from downstairs—bright, cheerful, but weary. I could also tell she didn’t expect me to respond as the clatter of plates and God knew what else continued.

Before I could change my mind, I opened my door into the light of the house—my room stayed dark. I hesitated in the doorframe, but Magnolia’s laugh that sounded from downstairs had me closing my bedroom door behind me. I gravitated toward it.

As I entered the living room, I saw the tree—far too large for the room, half decorated with handmade ornaments, some old, some new, tinsel, lights. It looked like Christmas threw up on it, and also looked seconds away from toppling over from how much was adorned on it.

“That’s…that’s a choice, babes. Next time, lay off the tinsel, yeah?

” I reached out to the sparkly threads. “My god. Sloan let this happen?” I was still looking at the tree with humor, not registering the silence from behind me until I felt a thump on my back.

Instead of flinching at the contact, I leaned into it.

“I’ve missed you,” Magnolia’s voice cracked from behind me, and I couldn’t help but the few tears that escaped.

“Merry Christmas, Mags,” I whispered at her confession. After one last tight squeeze, she let me go.

“I found the star. The one my parents insisted we use every year.” She held out the worn, glittering ornament to me. Her hesitation ate at me, and I offered her a half smile. I could tell she was holding in her own tears at the sight of it.

“Let’s put it on top, shall we?” Sloan’s voice sounded from behind us.

I reached up and put it on the top of the tree that absolutely did not need a single extra decoration.

I saw the anticipation humming from my best friend, and I felt…

relief. For the first time in a long time.

I felt content at that moment, and I did my best to ignore the way my heart seemed to start beating again, in that room, with those people.

And for the first time since Luke pulled me away from the wreckage of that warehouse, I felt like everything would be okay.