Page 96 of You Cake My Breath Away

I wish things were different.

I love you.

Emotions choke me as I spread the pineapple icing over the rolls, wiping away tears with the sleeve of my sweater. Everything in this bakery reminds me of him, of what he did for me. The punny light he hung, the sign he made me that sits above the shop, the bakery case he drove hours away to buy me then fucked me against like it was his dying wish. His touch is ingrained into every fiber of my being, and my bakery.

All these things were showing me that he truly knew me, that he truly loved me, and I threw it all away because he was too scared to tell me, to fight for me all those years ago. Because his parents, and even me, made him feel so unworthy of love that when it finally came time for him to have it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

Gulping down air, I sob and slide down to the ground, curling into a ball as a blast of nausea rolls into my core. My stomach twists with the realization I threw away my second chance at true love. That all the timewe spent working on this bakery wasn’t enough to keep us together, to show us that we were exactly right for each other.

***

“It smells in here.”

I pop my eye open, cursing the sliver of light landing directly in my pupil as Shantel drops something onto my dresser with a clink and plops onto the bed beside me.

“No one asked you to break into my house,” I say, pulling the covers over my head.

She rudely steals the covers, bunching them on the other side of the bed. Her belly is rounder since I last saw her, and I reach out, waiting for her to tell me if I can touch the cute bump. She scootches closer, grabbing my hand and laying it directly where the baby is softly kicking. She’s not far enough along for me to feel the gymnastic tumbling the baby likes to do, but knowing there are little flutters and kicks going on beneath my hand brings me a tiny bit of joy.

“You haven’t left this house in days.” She rises from the bed and opens the curtains. Like a vampire, I shriek at the sudden glaring light, waiting for it to melt my skin and leave me nothing but bones. She laughs and rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“What do you want?” I groan, sliding out of bed and heading to the bathroom. A wave of dizziness makes my steps falter. I press my hand against the cool marble sink top and curse myself for not eating yesterday.

She follows, leaning against the door jamb with her arms crossed. “You didn’t come to Sunday dinner.” She looks around with a frown on her face. “And it looks like you’ve been in bed for a few days. What gives? Are you sick?”

I drag a brush through my tangled hair and shrug. “I’m fine.”

She moves quickly, grabbing the brush from my hands. I’m stunned, momentarily worried she’s going to hit me with it, but she takes my hair in her hands and starts to brush it. I sag with relief, closing my eyes as the knots come undone.

“It’s okay to need someone to take care of you,” she whispers.

My throat aches, and I press my hands onto the sink top, willing the anxious energy away. “I know.”

“But do you?” she replies, eyes challenging me in the mirror.

I look away from her penetrating stare. I’m not sure what she expects me to say. It’s Christmas season, without Jessie, and the man I thought I’d found a second chance with is a thousand miles away. I can barely manage to look at the bakery without breaking into tears. I’m constantly sick to my stomach, and I can’t stop crying. The solace of my home is where I needed to be.

Alone.

“What do you want me to say?” I ask.

She walks over to the shower and turns it on, steam filling the air within seconds. I’ve never been more thankful for the on-demand water heater Jessie had installed before he died.

“Get in, then we’ll talk.”

Like a child, I nod and return to the bedroom to find clothes. My bracelet sits atop the dresser, the mixing bowl charm lying flat where Shantel must’ve dropped it. A small smile takes over my face. When I found the gift after the wedding, Jessie didn’t know where it came from, but I thought maybe he had bought it and forgot about it. After reading Archer’s journal and finding out it came from him, I realize I should’ve known.

The thought stabs me in the chest where my already broken heart is hanging on by a thread, and I shove the bracelet into the drawer and grab some clothes.

Hot water beats against my back, loosening the tense muscles in my neck. I squirt the body wash onto my loofah and the scent of apples fills the air. My stomach tumbles like a washing machine, and I press my hand against my breastbone, trying to calm my speeding heart. Vomit threatens, and I lean against the cool tile wall until the sensation abates.

When I first lost Jessie, I didn’t eat for days. It took Nora and Shantel rallying around me, forcing me to finally nibble on some crackers. Even after I started eating, the loss still kept my stomach on a constant roll of nausea and hollowness. I wonder if my body is responding the same way because it remembers what it feels like to lose love. I’ve heard it said that grief is the price we pay for loving one another, but I feel like I’ve overpaid on my account. I’m due for a refund.

I hold my breath and wash the soap out of the loofa. The fresh steam quells the uneasiness swirling in my stomach. I shut off the shower and towel myself dry before I slip into a fresh set of pajamas and throw my hair into a messy bun.

“What are you wearing?” Shantel asks when I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

“Clothes?”

---