Page 26 of Don't Leave Me
* * *
Florida
Three weeks later
Ashleigh
I was at the bakery, pulling an apple strudel out of the oven, when Candy burst through the door. She was chattering about something, but I wasn’t really listening.
I was still in Florida and I was still Marie Campbell. For now. There had been no word from Marc, and no sign of George, which meant Marc hadn’t told him I was alive.
Nearly every day since Marc left, I’d considered taking Danny and running, but, every day, I decided to go through my normal routine instead. Like I was stuck between what I thought was right, and what I really wanted deep down inside.
Sandra showed up at the house at five o’clock in the morning, and usually napped there until Danny woke up. I was at the bakery by five-thirty to start baking. I made a great strudel and to-die-for Berliners, which were basically German beignets, and killer crullers. There were also cinnamon buns and cupcakes.
The coffee, which had been Helga’s special recipe, brought people in from the business parks all around. Many eschewed Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts because ours was better and cheaper. Usually once I got a customer in the door for coffee, they left with something sweet to accompany it.
The bakery generated a decent revenue, if not reaching its fullest potential because I didn’t spend any time or money on marketing. I had my regulars. My word-of-mouth newbies. And the occasional customers who happened to be dropping off the dry-cleaning next door and thought they’d stop in for a treat.
I didn’t do wedding cakes, too much pressure. But I would do the occasional custom black forest cherry cake for birthdays and other events.
At two o’clock every day I closed shop, went home to my son. And we lived our life together.
I read books on parenting. On being a single mother. On child development. I also read books about trains to Danny, because trains were his favorite—
I should have told Marc about the trains.
I closed my eyes any time the pain became too much. When it overwhelmed me. What I’d done. What I’d kept from him. Maybe even stolen from him.
There were times I’d played it out in my head. Telling him I was pregnant, telling him my plan to fake my death. Telling him to find me. Find us.
Sometimes, when I had those thoughts, about how I should have, could have told him the truth, I would see yet another burden added to his shoulders. All those burdens I’d added to his whole life.
Protect Ashleigh. Save Ashleigh. Protect Ashleigh’s son. Do the right thing, the honorable thing, but never the thing he wanted. Never the woman he chose for himself.
I told myself letting him go was noble. Self-sacrificing.
I told myself I was brave, when secretly, I wondered if I was a coward.
Why was I still here? What did I think was going to happen? This wasn’t letting him go. This was clinging on to hope. A hope I thought I’d crushed.
“Marie? Marie, did you hear what I said?”
I looked at Candy. I’d been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard any of what she’d been saying. Something about a breaking news story, but it wasn’t like that wasn’t happening every minute these days.
“I’m sorry, just got a lot of stuff on my mind. I was zoned out. What’s going on?”
“Another big perv scandal going down. This time a politician running for office. Likes to fuck with underage girls. Well, let’s see how he likes getting fucked in prison. I heard they do that to those guys especially.”
I blinked as her words registered. A sex scandal. Involving a politician. I didn’t have a television in the shop—I didn’t like the thought of depressing people with the news when surrounded with so much sweet, gooey goodness.
“That was the last of the fresh baked goods,” I said, pointing at the strudel. “Think you can handle the morning rush for a bit?”
“Sure. It’s always slower on Tuesdays.”
With that, I popped into the small back room that served as my office, and pulled my phone out of my purse. I checked CNN first, and there it was. Breaking news. Evan Sanders, senatorial candidate from New Jersey, arrested on federal charges of sex trafficking minors.
The picture showed him in handcuffs, flanked by two suit-wearing FBI agents.
