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“Fine. I’ll taste the damn cake,” she utters, changing the subject. Ignoring my fork, she goes for the cake herself. She takes a piece and brings it to her mouth, all the while pretending as if I’m not there at all. Little wench. My fingers twitch with the need to put them on her shoulders and give her a firm shake, but I hold back the urge.
Instead, I watch her chew slowly, mindful of every line of her face; as if I stare long enough, I’ll be able to understand the woman sitting next to me. Back in the day, I knew her face like I knew my own. I could read her like a book. No matter how hard she tried to hide her emotions, she couldn’t hide them from me, but right now, I wasn’t sure what was going through her head. And I hated it. Because maybe if I could, I’d understand where things went wrong and why we fell apart.
Finally, she places the fork on her plate, still not uttering a word.
My chest tightens with unease like a heavy weight has fallen on me.
“Re—”
“How are we doing over here? Did you find something you like?” Mrs. Wilson asks as she joins us once again.
Rebecca swallows, nodding. “Good. I think we should go with the peanut butter and chocolate one.” She points at the first cake. “Everybody loves chocolate, so I don’t think we can go wrong with somethingreliable.” She gives me a pointed look before shifting her attention to Mrs. Wilson and flashing her a smile. “And then maybe two different types of cupcakes. One with fruit and another chocolate option?”
“Great choice. Hopefully, the bride and groom will like them.”
I didn’t think either Kate or Emmett cared one bit for the cake or the other details. They just wanted to finally get married and be together.
“Well, let’s hope so. I like them, so I might just be tempted to eat them myself otherwise,” Becky chuckles.
“So glad to hear it, honey. I’ll write that down for ya.”
“Great. Thanks, Mrs. Wilson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to Reading Nook.”
Before I can react, she gets to her feet and slides her bag over her shoulder, dashing for the door like the room is on fire.
I push back, the chair scraping against the floor. “Rebecca, wa—” The bell above the door chimes as she exits the bakery, yelling a loud goodbye. “Fuck!”
I run my hand over my face, letting it drop by my side, when a hand pats my shoulder, reminding me I’m not alone.
“Sorry, Mrs. Wilson.”
“It’s fine. Just give her time. She’s been hurting for a very long time.”
Her words make my stomach tie in a knot as the trepidation sinks in.
“She isn’t the only one,” I mumble, that familiar irritation atwhat had happened growing inside of me. All the things that could have happened differently if only…
If only.
Shaking my head, I give the woman a small smile. “Thanks for the cake, Mrs. Wilson. It’s as amazing as always.”
“Of course. Maybe you should try that charm of yours on her. It worked the first time.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know about that. We’re too broken for that.”
“Oh, please. There is no such thing as too broken. Even the smallest pieces can be put together if one wants to.” She gives me a pointed look. “The question is, do you want to?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
REBECCA
“Hey, I’m home.”
Stepping inside the house, I make sure the door is locked, and the key is safely stored in my bag before slipping off my shoes. My feet ache from standing all day at the café. It was another long day with countless customers, most of whom wanted to talk abouthim. Apparently, somebody saw us sitting together at Small Treatsthe other day, and now everybody thought we were back together. It was annoying as hell, and Jessica couldn’t come fast enough so I could disappear inside the kitchen once again. Seriously, by the time he gets out of Bluebonnet, I’ll have to give that girl a raise.
Silence greets me as I turn around and walk down the hallway. I peek into the living room to find it empty, so I continue to the kitchen, where Linda is cleaning.
“Hey, Linda, where is everybody?”
