Page 46 of Always the Baker

I stood back,paintbrush in hand, surveying the wall before me. The mural was coming to life, stroke by stroke. It was a kaleidoscope of colors. The images were taken from my memoryof The Hills… A mural I’d once described to a man that no longer wanted anything to do with me.

“What are you painting there, Billie?” Old Man Wallace shuffled by, eyeing my work curiously.

I laughed, dabbing a bit of blue onto the wall. “Oh, you know. Just sprucing up the place.”

“Looks like more than that to me.” He chuckled, squinting at the half-finished mural of hope I hadn’t realized I’d one day bring to life when I’d lied to Brax about it. “Ain’t that something. Why do the kids have paintbrushes for wings?”

I smiled.

“To help them paint all the colors in the sky,” I mumbled, focusing intently on blending the colors.

As Mr. Wallace strolled away, I let out a sigh. This mural was supposed to help me process everything, but all it did was remind me of how much I missed Brax. I glanced at my phone, noting the time. His interview was about to start.

Wiping my hands on my already paint-stained jeans, I plopped down on the sidewalk and pulled up the livestream. There he was, looking devilishly handsome in a black T-shirt that showed off his tattoos. My heart did a little flip. I don’t think I’d ever seen him in a color other than black or white, and he almost always had on black.

“So, Brax.” The interviewer leaned in. “Word on the street is you met someone special recently. Care to dish?”

Brax’s face tightened, almost imperceptibly. If I hadn’t spent those magical days with him, I might not have noticed. But I did, and my stomach clenched.

“Yeah, I thought I had. Turns out it was all a lie.”

My heart plunged. The interviewer’s eyebrows shot up, clearly thrilled at this juicy tidbit.

“Oh? Do tell!”

Brax ran a hand over his beard… A gesture I recognized as a sign of frustration. “Not much to tell. Met a girl, thought she was different. Turned out to be just another person I couldn’t trust.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. Is that what he really thought?

“I moved too fast,” Brax continued, his words cutting me to the core. “Should’ve known better than to trust someone I barely knew. Still, I miss her.”

I turned off the stream, unable to watch anymore. My gaze drifted to the mural, to Brax’s half-finished face staring back at me from one of the fields I’d painted on the wall. With a choked sob, I picked up my brush and slathered black paint over it, obliterating his features in one angry stroke.

What had I done?

I drove myself back to my parents’ house and collapsed onto the couch. My phone clattered against the floor. Brax’s words echoed in my head, each one a dagger to my heart. I buried my face in my hands, willing the tears not to fall.

“God, I’m such an idiot.”

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it hesitantly. It was Ember.

Em: Did you see the interview?

I typed back a quick yes before tossing my phone aside. I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to relive the pain in Brax’s eyes.

As I sat there, wallowing in my misery, a thought struck me. Brax said he missed me. Despite everything, despite knowing I’d lied to him, he still missed me. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

“He misses me,” I whispered as a glimmer of hope ignited in my chest.

I jumped up, suddenly energized. I had to do something, had to make this right. Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed a pen and paper.

“Dear Brax,” I wrote as my hand shook slightly. “I know you probably hate me right now, but please, give me another chance to explain…”

The words flowed out of me, raw and honest. I poured my heart onto the page, explaining my insecurities, my fears, and most importantly, how real my feelings for him were.

As I sealed the envelope, I took a deep breath.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, heading out to mail the letter before I lost my nerve.

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