She frowns sympathetically. “Did you like him?”
My chest aches. My heart hurts. I liked him so much it was, well, more than like. I was in love with him. “I did,” I say, swallowing past the hurt. “It’s Corbin. Theo’s friend.”
Recognition dawns in her eyes. “He’s always seemed like such a generous, thoughtful guy.”
I wince but then tell myself to stay strong. “He is. But it was clear it wasn’t going to work out since we’re business partners and all. I need to focus on business. That’s what you’ve been telling me, and it just makes sense.”
She tilts her head. “But is that what you really want?”
What I want is to wake up next to Corbin. To feel his arms around me. To hear him whispering words of support in my ear. To experience his kisses on my neck. To know that we could do this together. But clearly that’s not going to happen.
“I know myself. I wasn’t giving enough to anything. You know me—I’m always too much or never enough,” I say, trying to make light of the truth of my life.
She stands, strides over to me, sets her hands on my shoulders. “Mabel, that’s not true.”
But the aching in my chest tells me that it is true. It’s too true. My eyes sting. “It’s okay, Mom. I need to just make the best of this bakery. You said it yourself. I was distracted.”
“Dear, I just don’t want life to be hard for you. I want you to have opportunities. That’s what I’ve always wanted. But love isn’t always a distraction.”
In my case it was. I look at the clock. “I’m going to be late if I don’t go.”
She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for coming by. Everyone loved the cake.”
“Thanks,” I say, then tears streak down my face as I walk out, shoes echoing in the wide hallway. I don’t know why her colleagues liking the cake is doing a number on me, but it sure is. It’s shot all my emotions sky-high.
On the drive back, I swipe at my cheeks. When I arrive at the bakery, Corbin’s bike is locked up by a lamppost out front.
Seriously?
I steel myself.
Don’t let him see you cry. Don’t let him know you’re hurt. Don’t let him know you missed him.
I march inside, and apparently I don’t listen to myself. All of my hurt blasts out in an accusatory: “Why are you here?”
I didn’t mean it for it to come out like that.
But he takes it in his stride. “I wanted to help.”
“Dude,” I say, and I want to shout,You dumped me.But he’s my business partner, and I can’t lash out at him like I would at Dax. We agreed to be adults. We agreed to be civilized. At the very least I can do that.
“I thought you had hockey and stuff,” I say, moving behind the counter but keeping my distance.
Oh, do I sound annoyed? I think I do. I think I don’t care.
“I have the day off. And I try to help out here when I have the day off. I always planned to be here today.”
Well la-dee-dah.
If I had looked at the bakery schedule this morning like I should have, I would’ve seen that. Itishis day to be here. “Of course,” I say brightly, cheerily, as happy as I could possibly be. Because I’m not letting on that he’s hurt me.
“We’ve got a lot going on, so it’s good that you’re here,” I say. “And Aisha should be arriving any minute. Audrey too. She’s feeling better.”
Even though I want to sayI wish you didn’t come in. It would be a lot easier for me to nurse my irritation and to cry occasionally if you weren’t around. But somehow I have to white-knuckle my way through the day because seconds later Aisha strolls out from the kitchen with a tray of orange habanero cookies. “The gang’s all back together,” she sings, “and today is going to be a great day.”
Doubtful, but I keep that to myself.
I’m all business until he leaves in the afternoon to pick up his daughter.
