Page 35 of You Cake My Breath Away

I slip into a memory of sitting at the lab table alone, surrounded by the smell of bunsen burners. In every class I’ve ever taken, I’ve always been the last one chosen to be a partner for any kind of project, but this time I wasn’t. A hand raised in the back of the room as the teacher was explaining the end of the year project, and out came a voice asking if there could be a group of three. My neck spun like the girl in The Exorcist, and my eyes landed on Archer and Jessie. They were lounging in their chairs, notebooks closed like they hadn’t been writing down the important instructions the teacher was doling out.

When the teacher asked Archer to repeat the question, he pointed at me and said, “The numbers for partners are uneven. Can we be a trio?”

He was ruggedly handsome, played on the football team, and drove a big truck. I couldn’t lie, I had a small crush, but I wasn’t the type of girl he’d have noticed. I’d passed him chatting with friends in the hallway plenty of times, but he’d never acknowledged me before this moment.

In the back of my head, I dreamt he’d picked me because he wanted to, not because he wanted to copy off my work. Study sessions filled with snacks turned into Friday night karaoke and the occasional farmers market trip, but somewhere during that semester we all became legitimate friends. Or at least I thought we did.

“Are you gonna take these to your parents’ restaurant?” Nora asks, rolling cookie dough.

Sadness tugs down my shoulders. “I don’t know. Dad’s been acting weird lately, and I don’t want to approach him about changing the menu.”

“He’s missing out,” Nora replies. “These are going totaste so good.”

“I hope so,” Shantel says.

I bump her shoulder playfully, and like a record scratch, everyone stares at me, waiting to see what I’m going to do. Tingles spread down my arm and up my neck, and I itch to brush the sensation away. But I don’t. I focus on the feeling, chasing the euphoria instead of the despair. A half smile pulls at the corner of Shantel’s mouth and Nora openly beams. Feeling self-conscious, I look back down at the cake pans and place them in the oven.

“Are you going to go to that singles mixer this weekend?” Nora asks.

I choke on my spit, sputtering out an incoherent sentence as my gaze snaps to Shantel. She’s been urging me to get out and meet someone, but I didn’t think I was ready. Half the time I still wake up thinking Jessie’s going to walk out of the bathroom in his boxers and socks with a toothbrush in his hand. I doubt someone would want to sleep with a woman who still wears her husband’s old band shirts and can’t manage to make his side of the bed.

“No,” I reply, inwardly cursing Shantel for telling Nora.

“Why not?” Nora asks.

Having this conversation with my husband’s mother is the last thing I imagined I’d be doing today.

“He’s only been gone a year.” Chest tightening, I press my fingers into the marble countertop.

“Yes, he has,” she says. “And he wouldn’t want you to spend any more time lonely.”

I quickly reply, “I’m not lonely.”

Her side eye is the equivalent of a teacher smacking a student’s hand with a ruler.

“I’m fine alone.”

Shantel chooses this moment to insert her two cents. “Archer says the same thing.”

Something passes between Nora and Shantel, and a sickness takes root in my stomach.

“Don’t you dare even think it.” I struggle to fill my lungs.

“What?” she asks, innocently, though I can clearly see what she’s aiming at.

“Tilly.” Nora moves in front of me, her eyes soft and inviting. “Your fire has come back.”

“It’s because of the bakery.”

“Jessie would want you to be happy.”

“Not with his best friend,” I yell, unaware I just voiced my thoughts outside of my head.

Nora steps back, and I feel the heat staining my cheeks. I’ve never raised my voice to her, and it’s not like she was insinuating that Archer was the reason my fire has come back. Shame rolls in like a storm ready to batter the tattered shelter I’ve built around my heart.

“I’m sorry,” I say, head down. “I’m not in the right headspace to have company right now. Maybe you guys should go.”

“No, Til.” Shantel sidles up next to me and bends to meet my gaze. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to be pushy. Let’s change the subject.”

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