Page 8 of Markets & Mooncakes

I ignore them both and make my way over to the table where there's a large bowl. I look into it, only half surprised to discover soaking fruit inside.

"I can put that away now you're here," he says as he notices me looking.

"Is it for your tea loaf?" I ask.

He nods. "But we can make something else."

"Do you want to make something else?" I ask curiously.

A strange expression crosses his face, one that I have difficulty working out.

"I'm going to need words," I admit, trying not to feel too self-conscious about the idea of not being able to understand what he's thinking when it's not normally an issue.

He lets out a sigh. "I'm trying to work out how I feel about it," he admits. "I don't usually share my experiments with people at this stage. Not even you."

"I see." I want to tell him that it's fine, and that he can put away his bowl and keep it to himself. But there's another part of me that wants to ask why he doesn't want to share this with me. We've baked together for years, it's strange to think that he hasn't shared this with me. I take a deep breath. There's a reason he hasn't, and that's fine. "Maybe we could make some biscuits? Mama mentioned that she likes ginger biscuits. I think that's the first time she's actually told me what she wants. Perhaps she tells you directly, I don't know..."

"She doesn't."

"Well, then we should take this as a good sign." I turn away and look at the shelves. "What do we need? Sugar, flour, ginger, syrup..."

"Evie." His voice cracks as he says my name.

I turn around, not having gotten anything. "You don't want to make ginger biscuits?" My voice goes up at the end, which is somewhat frustrating when I'm trying to not make things strange.

"What's wrong?" He steps towards me.

"Nothing."

He raises an eyebrow, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. Which is fair. I wouldn't even be able to convince myself, and that says something.

I let out a sigh. "I don't think I should say."

"Is it about the tea loaf?"

"Yes. But also, not yes."

"All right, explain it to me?" He leans back against the workbench.

I take a deep breath and take hold of a piece of my dress to try and ground myself. There's a part of me that's resisting saying what I'm thinking, which might be one of the only times that's ever been the case. But this is Nate standing in front of me. It should be easy to tell him what I'm thinking, but things have changed, and I feel more uncertain than normal about it.

"Why don't you want to share your baking experiments with me?" I ask. "I don't mean just now. I mean ever. You've shared so many recipes with me, and we make new things that you're not sure of, but you don't ever share your experiments with me, and I guess I just want to know why. Do you not trust me with them?"

"It's nothing to do with trusting you," he says.

"Then what is it to do with?" I ask. I'm a little worried about pushing him on this, especially because I don't want to upset him and ruin what we have together, but I know that I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about it until I ask.

He rubs a hand over his face. "It's just that you come to bake so that you can get rid of the stress from your days and stop yourself from falling apart. I never know how my experiments are going to turn out, and I've never wanted to subject you to the disappointment when one doesn't work. So I guess I just started keeping them to myself."

Silence falls between us as I process what he's saying. I nod. "We can put it away if you want to."

"We can, or I can share it with you," he responds slowly. "I didn't mean to make you think that I was keeping something from you, even if I kind of was. I just don't want to disappoint you."

"What? No. You couldn't disappoint me." I step forward and reach out to touch him. "You couldn't." I look into his warm brown eyes, hoping he knows how true that is, and how little I want him to feel like that.

He gives me a small smile.

"We can make the biscuits. And maybe when you're ready, you can share something you want to try making with me?" I wish I could talk to Veronica and make sure that I'm understanding the situation correctly and doing things the way that I should, but I think I'm getting it right. "We could start with something that you're reasonably sure will work as you intend it to."