Page 23 of Baking With A Ghost

Uponenteringthebakerykitchen, the aroma of fresh baked bread hits my nose,confusing me. Sure, the smell of a bakery is always lingering and delicious, but this is fresh.

Sitting on the cooling trays are today's loaves of white bread, all baked and nearly cooled for bagging.

Bread apparently does bake itself.

If this would've happened a few months ago, I would've called the police and had cameras installed to see who was fucking with me. But today? I'm grinning from ear to ear because I know it's Simon, and other than this morning’s ghostly blow job, this is a massive display of affection.

He's gifted me an hour of time today with this.

"Thank you so much, Simon. You didn't have to do this but I appreciate it so much."

With a pep in my step and renewed focus, I turn the open sign on early and get the day started.

My good mood fades when I see a familiar red corvette parked outside. How the hell did Carl find me? He had to do some major research to know I moved here, not to mention the six hour one way drive to get here. This is pure bullshit and it's not what I wanted to deal with today.

He's already stepping out of his car and moving towards the door before I can change my mind and try to avoid him by turning the closed sign back on. The smug smile on his face turns my stomach. What did I ever see in this guy?

I allow him exactly two steps into my bakery.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"That's no way to talk to the love of your life, John. You gonna let me come in or do you treat all your customers this way?"

"I'm not in love with you. What do you want, Carl?"

His precious alligator dress shoes click on the floor as he ignores and pushes me aside, stepping up to the display case. Asshole.

"I came to see if you were done with this little charade of yours and ready to come home yet. It's making me look bad the longer you're gone." He turns and flashes his bleached white smile at me. "Cute place, you should be able to sell it and get your money back easily."

Anger bubbles inside me. He hasn't changed a bit. How the hell did I allow him to treat me this way for three years?

"I'm not leaving. I left you for good, so accept it." I try to move around him, but he grabs my arm.

"Don't be stupid, John. I gave you everything you needed. You'll never need another thing in your life. Don't waste your life in this shithole of a town. They don't even have a Starbucks."

His attempt at humour falls flat, but then I notice he's being serious and the lack of a Starbucks really does have him turning up his nose. I shake myself out of his grip.

"No, you didn't give me anything, actually. I left because you don't care about me as a person. I'm not someone to dress up and show off and occasionally have sex with. I'm starting over and it would be best for you to do the same." I flip on the coffee maker before turning around. "I’m not at all sorry you made the trip for nothing, but please leave my bakery."

He studies me for a moment before his trademark sneer shows up. All rainbows and lollipops one minute, but when no one is around the real Carl shows up as the sleeping snake I ignored for too long.

"So fucking pathetic, John. You'll regret saying no to me one day. I'm the best you'll ever have. Instead, you're going to waste your life in this shit box and work yourself to the bone for a few nickels. I guess you really are a loser."

My fury boils over and I yell until my throat is raw, and everything I never said to his face while I lived with him spews forth.

"I'm pathetic? You just drove six hours to ask for me back. If you're such a damn catch, I'd think you could have ordered a new boyfriend at the local Starbucks you're so fond of by now. I'd be wasting my life if I stayed with you, just like the three years I already spent with you. This place is my purpose and has always been my dream, something you never cared two shits about. Life isn't about fancy cars and your precious cashmere sweaters and fancy ass crystal glasses. It's about finding your place and being so damn happy with the lot you've been given, nothing can make you walk away. So give it a rest and fuck off. I'd rather work for my own nickels than take anything from you. My self respect is worth way more than that."

I pause to catch my breath.

"Now get the fuck out of my bakery and never come back."

Smug smile still present, he only shakes his head.

"Your loss, John. You'll regret it."

Before he can deliver any more witty commentary, a thud from outside sounds, followed by his car alarm.

That sure gets him moving. Looking out, I see a tree branch has fallen on the hood of his car, and he's in such a panic over it he doesn't even say goodbye or throw a final insult. Proving once again what a shallow piece of crap he is.

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