She didn't miss the way he used to look at her like she was magic.
The pipe gave one final groan as she tightened the new coupling into place.
She could fix this herself.
She could fix everything herself.
Even if her heart felt like a stripped coupling, damaged beyond repair.
CHAPTER 20
Hannah
Hannah staredat the stack of bills on her grandmother's old desk, running the numbers again. And again. As if somehow they'd change if she just looked at them long enough.
The morning sun slanted through Sugar & Spice's windows, painting everything golden. Usually, this was her favorite time of day—just her and the gentle hum of the ovens, the scent of fresh bread wrapping around her like a warm blanket.
But today, the numbers wouldn't add up.
Her fingers traced the edge of another cancellation notice. Three cakes this month alone. The hospital's standing order. The founder's day celebration committee.
Her phone buzzed. Frank, her flour supplier. Her chest tightened—she'd been dodging his calls all week.
"Frank, I?—"
"Just wanted to let you know the payment came through." His voice was warm, familiar. "You're all set."
Hannah's hand froze on the paperwork. "What payment?"
"For the past due balance. And this month's order." Paper rustled on his end. "Came through last night. You want the usual delivery schedule?"
The room tilted sideways. She hadn't paid. Couldn't have paid. The money wasn't there.
Which meant?—
"Who?" Her voice came out strangled. "Frank, who made the payment?"
A pause. "Anonymous. But look, Hannah, everyone's going through tough times. Nothing wrong with accepting?—"
The rest of the call was a blur of politeness and platitudes. Hannah thanked him woodenly, her voice distant, automatic. She hung up before he could say anything else.
Her hands shook as she pulled up her account. The payment was there. A neat sum that exactly covered what she owed, plus next month's order.
Only one person knew those exact numbers. Only one person had seen her hunched over the books late at night, had watched her try to make the math work.
Jake.
The name hit her like a physical blow.
The same Jake who'd betrayed her trust. Who'd spent months pretending to love her while gathering evidence against her father. Who had no right to?—
Her desk clattered as she shoved back her chair.
No.
He didn't get to do this.
Didn't get to swoop in and play hero after destroying her life.
