Page 54 of How To Not Need You

“I wasn’t hoping,” Ben replied with complete sincerity as he eyed the door to what was presumably the kitchen. “I was assuming.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I’m sure I have something.”

She disappeared momentarily behind the door and emerged with a plate full of goodies.

“I am testing some new recipes for opening day. Let me know what you think.”

Ben needed absolutely no encouragement. By the time I reached the counter he’d already claimed the only stool and bit into a cinnamon roll, making a noise that would have been embarrassing if anyone else had been around to hear it.

I slid the envelope across the timber countertop.

Natalie’s smile faltered. “What’s this?”

“I think,” I said, choosing the words carefully. “It’s something you should see.”

She opened the envelope carefully and slipped the photograph out. Her hands stopped moving. For several long seconds she simply stared at it, and I watched the emotions move across her face.

Her shoulders drop. Relief. Which feels strange until I realise she finally knows she wasn't imagining it.

Then her eyes fill.

Fuck.

“So…” she whispered. “I wasn’t imagining it.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t think you were.”

Natalie let out a slow breath that sounded so sad that I felt guilty for helping to cause it. “I kept hoping I was.”

The silence that followed was broken only by Ben making an appreciative noise around a mouthful of pastry.

“Mmm this cinnamon roll might actually be my favourite.” He held it up for inspection. “The ratio is perfect. Cinnamon to dough. Dough to icing. Icing to…”

He trailed off when he finally noticed the picture that Natalie was holding. “Oh. Right. Sorry. Continue.”

Neither of us acknowledged him. I rested my forearms on the counter, watching Natalie continue to stare at the photograph. Her thumb traced the edge of it once, lightly, like she was memorising it.

“I wish you weren’t in love with Matthew.” Ben cut in.

She looked up, surprised. and I looked to him as well. His eyes were softer than I expected, and for a second I wondered if something had happened with Gemma.

“Because if you weren’t,” he continued. “I’d marry you tomorrow.”

Natalie laughed, small and shaky but completely genuine, and I couldn't help but join her.

“That is possibly the strangest compliment anyone’s ever given me.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Natalie looked back down at the photograph, the smile fading into something sadder once more. She slid it carefully back into the envelope, squared her shoulders, and tucked it into the pocket of her flour-dusted apron. Her fingers lingered there for just a moment before she looked back at me.

“This still isn’t enough,” she said softly.

“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”

She nodded once. Not defeated. Just resolved. “Then we keep looking.”

Harper's voice pulls me back to Page & Grounds. The same photograph now sits in the middle of her open notebook.