Page 53 of Where We Ended

Red paused, wrapping one of her loaves with cellophane.

It was nearly six in the morning; no one but the two of us were awake. Silas was still asleep in my bed, and while I should have stayed there, curled into his side, there was something itching under my skin to get up and get back to my life. I had no delusions that his sudden appearance for the sake of my rescue meant he’d stick around. The last thing I wanted was to let my guard down.

“That’s because I don’t have any.”

My hands froze around the cream of tartar; my head dipped as I processed what she was trying to say.

With a heavy sigh, Red started working on a new batch of dough, her gaze on the cutting board.

“About six months ago, I woke up in the middle of the night standing outside in my nightgown. I was holding Brooks’ leather jacket as if it was a baby, and I was so angry with him that he nearly couldn’t calm me down.”

I twisted toward her; my throat dry.

A tiny piece of white hair fell from her updo as she worked out the dough, rolling it with her hands.

“I was screaming and crying for a child I never had. I was convinced I was a mother, Natty. To my very bones. I still have nightmares at night over the feelings of loss, as if I’m grieving something I never even had.”

I had no idea what that must feel like, but my heart hurt for her.

“What did you do?” I whispered, gently setting the ingredient down, fully engrossed.

“Brooks took me to the doctor; they said it was a sign of onset Alzheimer’s. When the doctor told me it would only get worse, something inside me just snapped. I knew my mother’s mother had it, and there was a chance I might get it, but to have my brain betray me into thinking I had children…to have kids that I grieved, that, in my mind, I loved. Only to realize it’s just my brain playing tricks on me…I felt betrayed in the deepest sense of the term.”

I wanted to cry from how broken she sounded. I hated how useless it felt to just stand there and listen to something so devastating. I inspected the floor, unsure of what to say, but Red filled the silence.

“It took a week for me to get out of bed, to wrap my mind around the fact that I was literally going to lose it. Then I decided to start doing something every day, so repetitive that there would be no way to forget.”

Oh no. The bread, it finally made sense.

“Red, that’s not how?—”

She looked up, her gaze on mine. “But it’s working…I feel like my mind is stronger, like my memory is going to be okay. Every day I bake bread, and it seems so simple, but it’s helping me, Natty. I stopped thinking about the incident, and instead, I have started thinking about how many people we can feed with something as simple as a loaf of bread.”

She glanced up at me then returned her focus to the dough. “I don’t need pity, honey. I just haven’t shared that with anyone, and now that you’re back…if something were to happen, or if I have an episode or…” Her voice hitched, and I moved.

Leaving the counter, I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug.

“I’m here, Red. For anything you need, we’ve got you.”

She silently cried into my shoulder for only a few moments until she sniffed and pulled back. Then it was as if nothing happened. Her smile was back in place, her no nonsense attitude as she bumped my hip.

“You might not be around here much longer now that your man has come for you.”

A tiny twist rooted deep in my chest. He’d only came for me because I’d been taken, not because he was finally ready for us to be together.

“I’ll be around. I’m not leaving.” I returned to my station, trying to hold in the storm of emotions battering my chest.

Red watched me with narrowed eyes.

But she didn’t say anything else, and that was one reason I loved working in the kitchen with her. She knew when to drop a subject. We worked next to one another in peace for another hour until we heard the front door of the club open, and then there were thumps on the stairs leading down to the main room.

I watched with apprehension as Silas made his way to the bar. His light eyes found mine immediately. He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was wondering why I’d left him in bed without a word. The way his gaze traveled down my apron to where my hands were dusted with flour had my face heating.

Killian and Laura walked up to the bar, then Harris and Brooks. Each of them seemed to give Silas a wide berth, which made me smirk.

He gave me one last once-over before moving around the bar and making his way into the kitchen. Red clicked her tongue, in a warning.

“No one is allowed back here?—”

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