And suddenly, the words were pouring out before she could stop them.
"This place is everything, Jake."
She wasn't talking to Agent Cooper right now. She was talking to the man who had helped her repaint these cabinets in the summer because the original color was fading.
The man who had built the wooden display shelf because she wanted something special for holiday pastries.
The man who had sat at this very counter, stealing bits of cookie dough while she baked.
Her voice broke.
"It's the only thing I have left now."
Jake inhaled sharply. "That's not true."
She let out a hollow laugh. "Tell me, what else do I have, Jake?"
His eyes darkened.
"You still have me."
Silence fell.
For a second, she thought she might shatter completely.
Because there was something about the way he said it.
Not a desperate plea. Not an apology.
Just truth.
Raw. Unshakable.
A declaration he had no right to make.
A promise she wanted so badly to believe.
Her fingers tightened around the recipe box.
She shook her head.
"I can't do this."
Jake's jaw clenched. But he nodded.
And then, slowly, carefully, he turned and walked away.
Leaving her alone in the kitchen, with nothing but the scent of smoke and the ghosts of everything they used to be.
CHAPTER 19
Hannah
Hannah's armsached from carrying boxes of pastries, but she kept her chin high as she approached the farmers' market coordinator. Carol Bennett had been running the market since Hannah was a child—had even helped her set up her first stall when she'd taken over the bakery.
Now Carol wouldn't meet her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Hannah." Carol shuffled her papers. "Your usual spot is... well, we've had to make some changes to the layout."
