“I’m sorry you bought this house,” Cass began. She looked at the velvet box in Brett’s hand. She hadn’t been able to pick up Charlie’s call, but she knew exactly what her sister would tell her to do: get a backbone and finally tell Brett how she really felt. “Actually, I’m not sorry. I’m—I’m pissed, Brett. You keep saying you know what you want, but you don’t ever stop to consider what I want. Which was a month to think—not a month for you to go and choose the house we were going to live in.”

“But this is the best house for us. Look at this kitchen, Cass. The mudroom downstairs even has special racks and cabinets for our snowboards and gear! And about our wedding—we’ve talked about it! The botanical gardens, perfect for a summer wedding. Peak Pub chili for the reception, just like you wanted. Unpretentious, homey. Remember? Everyone is looking forward to this, Cass.”

“Brett. This is about more than a gorgeous kitchen and expensive stoves and somewhere to store snowboards and what everyone in the town is looking forward to. We don’t make sense anymore! We haven’t for a long time. And forcing this thing, doing what everyone expects, for the rest of our lives, just because it would be too embarrassing to call it quits in front of the whole town—it isn’t right!”

“I don’t care what the town thinks, I really don’t.” They both knew this was a lie: Brett was all about appearances these days.

“Keep the ring, Brett,” Cass said. “It’s over.” Her heart had started to race and her palms were sweaty—but at least she had said it. Soon, she could leave. “And obviously I can’t accept this house. It’s gorgeous, so you should have no problem selling it again.”

“No. I can’t accept that we’re over, Cass,” Brett said quietly as he turned the ring box over in his hands.

“I know it’s hard. You’ll get through this. We both will.” Her voice was shaky, and she felt like the walls were closing in—and beyond that, as if her already tiny hometown was getting tinier. Her throat was starting to feel tight. “I just . . . I need to go.” With that she hurried to the front door and slammed her feet into her boots.

Brett was on her heels. “Cass, wait! Please, just stay. Let’s have dinner and talk. I’m sure we can work this out.”

Cass had her hand on the doorknob now. She forced herself to be firm again. “No, Brett. It’s over between us.” Soon she would be outside, breathing fresh air that didn’t smell of simmering red sauce and failure. She’d call Charlie back and tell her everything, and her sister would assure her she was doing the right thing. She’d go back to the bakery and make a pot of rosemary tea, her mother’s remedy for a headache. She’d distract herself with work, maybe even get ahead for tomorrow.

She pushed the door open and stepped onto the porch, taking in a deep breath of the wintry air.