Because the truth was, I wouldn’t have.Not like this.Not financially.Not in a way that made me feel like I owed him my future.
Saint nodded once, like my silence answered him.“That’s what I thought.”
My throat closed.“Leave,” I said.
His eyes flashed.“Belle.”
“Leave,” I repeated, louder this time.“I can’t do this right now.I have a bakery to open.I have customers coming.I have… everything.”
Saint’s jaw clenched.“I’m not going to let you think you have to pay me back.”
“I will,” I snapped.“By the end of the year.”
“No,” he said again, that same damn word, that same refusal.
I pointed at the door, my hand shaking.“Get out.”
Saint stared at me for a long beat, like he was trying to decide if I meant it.
I did.
His eyes flicked to the dogs, then back to me.Something in his face softened, just slightly, like he hated this.
Then he nodded once.
“Fine,” he said quietly.“But I’m not taking your money.”
“Then don’t,” I shot back.“But you’re leaving.”
Saint backed up a step, then another.He didn’t slam the door.He didn’t shout.He just turned and walked toward the back exit like he didn’t want to be seen leaving through the front.
Before he opened it, he paused, one hand on the handle.His voice came out low.“I’m sorry,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
The door shut behind him, and the bakery felt instantly colder.
Pepper whined softly and padded toward the back door like he wanted to follow.Salt stood in the middle of the floor, staring at the door like he could will it open again.
I pressed my palm to my chest and tried to breathe through the ache that had replaced my anger.
I should have felt relief.
I should have felt grateful.
Instead, I felt hollow.
Because Saint had taken the danger away, yes.
But he’d also taken something else.
The thing I’d been clinging to through all of it.
The belief that if I worked hard enough, I could fix anything.
Now I didn’t know what to do with all the money I’d earned, the debt I no longer owed, and the man who had just walked out like he thought he was doing the right thing.
