Dylan.
My stomach drops, the world tilting under me. “What are you doing here?” I manage to croak, the words scraping past the lump in my throat.
He adjusts the hat, smugness in every move. “Penn didn’t show, Jaylynn. Someone had to take his place.”
“What do you mean he didn’t show?” I lurch forward, panic clawing at me. “I need to go find him.”
His gloved hand clamps on my arm, pressing me back into the seat. “He’s not here.”
“Let me use your phone.”
“It’s in the locker,” he says flatly.
“I need—” I push to my feet, but the driver flicks the reins. The horse lurches forward, the float rolling, and I nearly topple. “Where is he?” My voice cracks, desperate.
Dylan only shrugs, his lips curving in a self-satisfied smile. “Beats me. But if I had to guess? After seeing us together last night, Penn finally realized what I’ve been saying all along. You and I are the ones who belong together. He probably stepped aside, gave us the space we need.”
My blood runs cold. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You said that last night too. But here we are. Penn’s gone, just like I told you he would be. He will always let you down, Jay. Always. You just didn’t want to see it.”
“No.” My denial is fierce, but it doesn’t stop the ache in my chest, the whisper of fear curling inside me. Where is Penn? “I need to get off this float.”
Dylan leans back with a smug little smirk. “Too late. The parade’s moving. So why don’t you do what you’re supposed to do?” He gestures to the crowd, his voice low and cutting. “Smile and wave, sweetheart.”
I turn my head and plaster on a smile, lifting my hand to wave as the float creaks along the snowy street. On the outside, I’m Mrs. Claus—warm, merry, picture-perfect. On the inside, I’m unraveling, scanning every face in the crowd, searching.
Where is Penn?
My heart insists he didn’t bail. Not on me. Not on this. Dylan has his fingerprints all over this mess. I can feel it in my bones.
“I’m the guy you can count on, Jaylynn,” Dylan murmurs at my side, his voice smug beneath the roar of holiday cheers. “The guy who’s here for you now, and will be here for you in the future.”
My stomach twists. I keep my smile fixed for the children lining the sidewalks, but my voice is tight. “Did you say something to him?”
“I didn’t need to.” He waves at a family in the front row like he’s the real Santa, like he owns this. “He sees how good we are together. That’s all it took.”
Anger pricks at the corners of my eyes. I refuse to let him see me break. “Do I need to remind you that you’re engaged?”
“Sloane and I broke up.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing, but my heart hurts for her. “There’s nothing standing in our way now. Not even Penn.” His grin slices through me, and I swallow hard against the bile rising in my throat. I really, really need a phone.
“Everything I said about him was right,” he adds smoothly. “He’s a thug. You’ll see soon enough.”
I turn away, my smile faltering but still there, because if I let the mask slip, the kids will see. And this moment—the lights, the joy, the magic of Christmas—isn’t mine to ruin.
The street is strung with twinkle lights, red and green bulbs glowing against the dusk. Wreaths sway from lampposts, the air filled with the scent of pine and hot cocoa. The crowd is beaming, faces lit with pure holiday wonder. Everything looks perfect. Everything should feel perfect.
But it doesn’t. Not even close.
When we pass my parents, I spot Jaxon with Rowyn at his side. Their smiles falter, confusion etching across their faces as they realize it isn’t Penn riding beside me. Whispers ripple through the nearby crowd, curious eyes darting toward me, toward us.
I close my eyes for a heartbeat, wishing the earth would open and swallow me whole. Just get me through this. Just get me off this float.
Dylan doesn’t notice—or doesn’t care. He keeps talking, spinning out his future as though it’s already written in stone. Him as president, me running his campaigns, the two of us unstoppable. His voice is a steady drone, a nightmare lullaby I can’t tune out no matter how hard I try.
Minutes stretch like hours until at last, the float lumbers into the town square. The massive spruce tree towers above us, its branches heavy with ornaments, waiting for the moment the lights will blaze to life. Children are bouncing on their toes, clapping their mittened hands, shrieking with excitement as they line up for their turn on Santa’s lap.
The driver pulls the reins, and the horse slows to a stop. The float shudders, and Dylan rises to his feet with a booming laugh, as though this is his moment. He leaps down, playing the role to perfection, reveling in the applause.