Page 2 of Faking It With the Single Dad

“Luke has everything he needs,” I say firmly. “And so do I.”

Marlene leans forward, lowering her voice. “Bella, you’re a smart girl. You’ve got to think long-term. What happens if business slows down? Or if these buyers start snapping up everything around you? You wouldn’t want to get left behind.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not interested in selling. The café’s not just a business to me—it’s part of this town, part of who I am.”

She sits back, clearly frustrated by my resolve. “Well, I hope you don’t regret it later. Sometimes, holding on too tight can keep you from moving forward.”

I nod. “Thanks for the advice, Marlene. I’ll keep it in mind.”

She finishes her coffee in silence. Her eyes dart around the room as if searching for one last piece of ammunition. When she finally stands, smoothing out her skirt, I feel relieved.

“Well,” she says, and forces another smile, “you let me know if you change your mind. Things have a way of shifting around here—sometimes faster than we expect.”

“Will do,” I reply as I walk her to the door. “Have a great day, Marlene.”

The bell jingles as she steps outside, and I watch through the window as she pauses on the sidewalk and glances back at the café before striding off down the street. When she’s out of sight, I exhale and let the tension drain from my shoulders.

Turning back to the counter, I focus on the comforting rhythm of the café—the hum of the coffee machine, the gentle clink of mugs being stacked, the sunlight streaming through the windows. This place is mine, and no amount of meddling or gossip will take it from me. Not that I blame Marlene or anyone else for wanting the full story, though. I’d like the same if I were in their shoes, because I still find it quite funny.

It all started when I found out I was pregnant with Luke.

Shortly after I informed Caleb, he confessed he wanted to start our family properly and proposed marriage before Luke came. We agreed on a quiet, solemn party. Just us, three friends each, and a priest. I’d just returned from doing last-minute errands the day before the wedding when I found a sweet surprise. My boyfriend’s wedding ring had “shortcake” engraved inside, the nickname he always used for me. I felt touched and excited, looking forward to our life together.

But before I could fully enjoy the moment, he called. He was drunk after his bachelor party and needed me to pick him up. When I arrived at the venue, my stomach dropped.

There he was, holding another woman’s hand and staring at her with the kind of gentle, affectionate look I thought was reserved for me. My chest tightened as I heard him call her “shortcake.”

When our eyes met, the world froze. That’s when I noticed the ring on her finger—identical to the one Caleb had chosen for me. Just a few minutes earlier, I’d believed that the ring was a symbol of our love. Now, it was on someone else’s hand.

The tension was thick in the room, and the silence was so heavy it was hard to breathe. A friend’s uneasy voice finally broke through. “Bella, you’re here. Caleb’s had too much to drink…”

Caleb tried to stand but swayed slightly to keep his balance. He glanced around the room but never looked directly at me.

“Bella? Bella’s right here,” he exclaimed, his face twisted in confusion. His eyes finally caught the woman at his side, and his expression softened into a smile. “I knew you’d come. You still love me,” he said, his voice warm and relieved.

The woman he called shortcake—and Bella—wore a soft white skirt, and her long hair trailed softly behind her face. She was beautiful, perfectly proportioned, and almost ineffable. Something about her tugged at my memory when I looked at her. And then it dawned on me. I’d seen her before, in a photo in one of Caleb’s books. My chest clenched again as anotherrealization hit me. The inscription on the ring lit up my vision. My pulse raced.We’re both named Bella.

Could this be an accident?

No, it couldn’t.

My stomach groaned and my hands started to tremble. The color drained from my face. The other Bella must have noticed, because she laughed at me. Immediately, she pulled the ring off her finger and offered it to me. “Caleb was drunk. Trust me, he didn’t want to invite me, so it’ll do you good not to take this too seriously.”

“Yeah,” Matt, Caleb’s best friend, chimed in. “He always acts like this when he’s drunk.”

I leaned in and took the ring, gripping it in my shaking hand.

“It’s fine,” I mutter.

And then, finally, Caleb looked at me and started walking over. I thought he was coming home with me, so I was surprised when his eyes turned dark.

“That’s my shortcake’s ring, not yours!” he cried. “Give it back to her!”

Matt came over and tried to cool things off with a contrived smile.

“Caleb hasn’t seen Bella in a while. He’s drunk and messed up. Don’t let it get to you, um…Bella?”

But Caleb squeezed his fists violently around my hand. I felt his fingers burying themselves in my flesh. I looked at his deep, threatening eyes, but I couldn’t figure out what was going through his head.

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