Chapter 119
Samantha's POV
The Christmas market sprawled across Mapleton's town square like something out of a Hallmark movie—twinkling lights strung between bare oak trees, wooden stalls selling handcrafted ornaments, and the smell of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts thick in the cold air. Couples wandered hand-in-hand past vendors hawking hot cider and gingerbread cookies, their breath misting in the December chill.
I hated every sickeningly sweet second of it.
"Sam, look—they have those German glass ornaments Mom loves," Lucas said, his gloved hand warm in mine as he tugged me toward a stall draped in red velvet. "We could get her one. Maybe it'll help smooth things over."
I let him pull me along, barely registering the delicate blown-glass angels arranged on the display table. My mind was elsewhere—specifically on the very pointed reminder this morning that I was not invited to the Miller family Christmas dinner tomorrow. Caroline's health concerns, Richard had said. Too stressful to have guests.
Right. Because I was the problem, not their precious son dating me.
"Sure," I murmured, forcing brightness into my voice. "That blue one's pretty."
Lucas examined it with the focused intensity he usually reserved for game film. I'd learned this about him over the past months—when things got complicated, he threw himself into small, controllable tasks. Picking the perfect ornament. Organizing his dorm room. Anything to avoid the real issues.
Like how his parents looked at me like I was some kind of contamination.
"You okay?" Lucas glanced at me, and I rearranged my expression into something softer.
"Just cold." I squeezed his hand. "Let's keep moving—I want to check out the jewelry booth you mentioned."
We paid for the ornament and continued through the market. The crowd had thickened as the sun dipped lower, families and couples blending into a mass of puffy coats and cheerful chatter. Christmas carols played from speakers hidden somewhere, the tinny sound of "Silver Bells" barely audible over the noise.
And that's when I saw them.
Ellie and Jackson, standing at a display of hand-carved wooden toys about thirty feet away. She was laughing at something he'd said, her head tilted back, the fairy lights catching in her dark hair. He leaned in—too close—adjusting the scarf around her neck with an intimacy that made my stomach clench.
The gingerbread cookie I'd eaten earlier turned to ash in my mouth.
She should be ruined. That's what Jack had promised after I'd given him the pills and the plan. One spiked drink at the end-of-semester party, one night of photos and rumors, and Ellie Green's perfect reputation would be in tatters. Lucas would finally see her for what she really was—not some untouchable goddess, but just another girl who made mistakes.
But there she stood. Whole. Happy. Worse than before.
With a new boyfriend who looked at her like she'd hung the fucking moon.
"Sam?" Lucas's voice pulled me back. "What's wrong?"
I realized my nails were digging into his forearm through his coat. I loosened my grip, painting on a smile. "Nothing. Just thought I saw someone from CVU."
Lucas followed my gaze, and I watched his entire body go rigid.
His eyes locked on Jackson, and something in Lucas's expression shifted—pupils dilating, his whole body going still like a deer sensing a predator.
Then I saw it. A flash of amber-gold rippled through his irises, there and gone in a heartbeat.
What the hell?
"Lucas?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. Just stood there, frozen, staring at Jackson with an intensity that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His hand had gone slack in mine.
"Well," I said, deliberately light, gesturing toward where Ellie and Jackson stood by the wooden toy display, "Ellie certainly didn't waste any time, did she? Fifteen years of pining after you, and look—new boyfriend already lined up."
Lucas blinked hard, like he was trying to clear his vision. When his eyes opened again, they were normal brown. Had I imagined that golden flash?
"How is that..." he breathed out, barely audible. Then, low and shocked: "How did I not notice before? Jackson is also—"
"Also what?" I turned to him immediately, my curiosity sharpening. "Lucas, what are you talking about?"
His gaze snapped to mine, and for a split second I saw panic. Real, raw panic.
"Also from Mapleton," he said quickly. Too quickly. "I mean—I should have recognized him. Why haven't I seen him around town before?"
I studied his face. That answer felt wrong, incomplete—like he'd caught himself mid-sentence and changed direction.
"Maybe he's not from Mapleton," I offered, watching his reaction carefully. "Could be he's just visiting for the holidays."
"Yeah." Lucas exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Yeah, you're probably right. Just visiting."
But he was still staring at Jackson, and that haunted look hadn't left his eyes.
"Lucas." I squeezed his hand, forcing him to focus on me. "Seriously, what's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Nothing. I'm fine." He managed a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just... surprised to see Ellie with someone new. That's all."
I knew evasion when I heard it. Whatever had just happened—that golden flash in his eyes, that aborted sentence about Jackson being "also" something—Lucas was hiding it from me.
And suddenly, I needed to know what it was.
"We should go say hi," I suggested, testing him. "Since you're both from the same hometown and all."
"No." The word came out fast—almost panicked. Lucas's grip on my hand suddenly tightened. "Let's just... let's head to the other side of the market. I want to check out those leather goods."
I blinked. "But we just passed those. And you hate shopping."
"Sam." His tone left no room for argument. "Please. I just want to keep moving."
There was something in his voice—an edge I'd only heard a few times before, usually right before he got into fights on the court. The kind of edge that suggested I should back off unless I wanted to see a side of Lucas I wouldn't like.
So I let him steer me away, even as every instinct screamed to march over there and confront Ellie face-to-face. To demand how she was still standing there, laughing and happy, when Jack had promised me everything was handled.
What the hell had gone wrong?
We wandered through the market for another forty minutes, Lucas barely speaking. He bought me a hot chocolate I didn't want and a pair of mittens I'd never wear, his movements mechanical. Every few minutes, I'd catch him glancing over his shoulder, like he was checking if Ellie and her new boyfriend were still there.
It made my skin crawl.
"I need to use the restroom," I finally said, unable to take the tension anymore. "You want to wait by the hot pretzel stand?"
Lucas nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Yeah. Take your time."
The community center bathrooms were tucked down a dim corridor off the main square, the holiday cheer fading with each step. I locked myself in a stall and pulled out my phone, my hands shaking—from cold or rage, I couldn't tell.
The screen glowed in the semi-darkness as I pulled up Jack's contact.
We need to talk. Tomorrow. 2 PM. Old mill. Don't make me ask twice.
If Jack had screwed this up—if he'd taken my money and my trust and done nothing—I'd make sure he regretted it. Margaret's precious son or not.