Page 37 of Win a Date with a Baker

The words hit harder than I expect.

I pull back as if I’ve taken a physical, and not purely verbal, blow. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t mean?—“

I stare at him. “What did you just say?”

He closes his eyes. “I?—”

“You think I’m with you for followers?”

“I don’t.”

“You literally just said it.”

“I said?—”

“You think I care about likes and follows?”

“No.”

“You think I’m trying to steal your business?”

“I never said?—”

“You implied it.”

His face falls. “I didn’t mean…” He reaches for me. “Elizabeth…”

I step back.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you thought it.”

His shoulders sag. “I’ve been reading comments.”

Everything suddenly clicks.

The exhaustion. The distance. The strange questions. The defensiveness.

“They got in your head,” I breathe. “And instead of talking to me...”I swallow hard. “...you let strangers influence you.”

His eyes are full of regret now. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No.” My voice wobbles. “You shouldn’t have.”

He takes another step. “Elizabeth…”

I press my lips together. Silence stretches between us.

I love him. I already know I do. Which is exactly why this hurts so much. I force a smile that feels nothing like one.

“I think...” I take one slow step backward. “...maybe we need a couple of days apart.”

His expression crumples. “Elizabeth.”

“I think we both need to breathe.”