“Better?” Tori asks.
I nod again.
“Keep eating. Do you want to try the macaron of the day?”
I start to nod, then shake my head, remembering that the doctor gave me a pamphlet about foods I shouldn’t eat while I’m pregnant, and that nuts were at the top of the list.
“Oh, I have these amazing lemon tarts. Let me go grab one.” Darting away, she heads into the shop, then bursts back into the kitchen carrying a gorgeous-looking tart on a sheet of paper branded with the shop’s name. “Eat. These are my favorites right now. I’ve had to put them in the display case before I eat them all.”
Handing me a tiny fork, she urges me to try, and when I do, I almost cry again. After the tart, she brings me a rosewater and white chocolate chip cookie, then a slice of passionfruit cake covered in a yellow glaze that’s so shiny I can see my own reflection in it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Are you okay?” she asks, glancing toward the doorway that leads into the shop where we left Knight.
Honestly, I’m surprised he’s stayed out there, which makes more tears want to spill from my eyes, but I bite my tongue, forcing them away.
“No, I’m not,” I admit.
“Want me to kick his ass?” she offers.
Smiling with wobbling lips, I shake my head. “No.”
“He loves you. He might not always know how to show you, but he does.”
“He’s better than you think. He shows me. But it’s when he takes it away that it hurts the most,” I say, hugging my arms around myself tightly. “How much of your stock did I just eat?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
“Oh, it’s on the house.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I burst in here and insisted you feed me. The least I can do is pay for what I ate.”
“I’ll add it to Knight’s tab,” Tori says, smirking.
“Okay.” I nod. “Do you have a washroom I could use?”
“It’s the one in the apartment. Nero’s on shift, so head on up there. The place is empty.”
Thanking her, I climb the stairs and freshen up, grateful that I brought some makeup with me in my purse today. Once I’ve put myself back together as much as I can, I head back downstairs, hugging Tori tightly before I step past Knight, ignoring him as I step out onto the sidewalk.
“Wife,” he barks seconds before my feet leave the ground, and I find my back pressed up against the wall at the side of the bakery.
“Put me down,” I snap, staring at a spot over his shoulder and refusing to make eye contact.
“No,” he says, clearly fighting to remain calm.
“I have to get to work.”
“No.”
“Knight, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I have to go to work, and I’d rather not do that looking like I’ve been crying.”
“I don’t understand,” he says almost desperately.
Sighing, I fight the urge to wrap my legs around him, unwilling to let him comfort me or allow myself to dismiss my feelings, even if he obviously has no idea why I’m upset.
“We can talk later, at home, but right now I need you to put me down.”
His jaw clenches as he holds me off the ground for two long minutes before he reluctantly lowers me to my feet. When I start to move forward, he uses his body to block me, only letting me pass once my fingers are securely entwined with his.
