“Right,” he muttered. “Must be someone who matters a great deal to you.”
There was no mistaking it now. Jealousy edged every word, restrained but burning beneath the surface.
I turned back to the window, my chest tightening. If only he knew. If only the truth were simple enough to say aloud.
The rest of the drive passed in tense silence, unspoken questions hanging thickly between us.
When we finally arrived, I felt like I could breathe again.
“Thank you,” I said, already unbuckling my seatbelt.
Ashton did not look at me. He did not reply.
Just as I reached for the door handle, something occurred to me.
“There is no document for me to sign, is there?”
He turned then, his expression blank, unreadable. “No.”
“Then why did you come looking for me?” I demanded. “What is your plan, Ashton? At this point, I am willing to accept whatever offer you are giving me.”
A bitter curve touched his mouth. “I bet you really are desperate to go back.”
“Oh, I am,” I shot back. “So make sure you bring it next time we meet. I do not like playing games.”
I slammed the door and stepped away.
Behind me, Ashton pressed the accelerator and sped off. The roar of the engine grated on my nerves, leaving my anger buzzing beneath my skin.
I unlocked the bakery and stepped inside, relieved to find it empty. Eva and the others had already gone home.
**********************************
I sat in my favorite spot inside the bakery for hours, trying to calm myself. I called my son back as promised, and we talked for a while. Triston was a wonderful boy, and this was the longest we had ever been apart. That alone explained why he had called earlier, even though we had already spoken that morning.
According to Sissy, he had been feeling insecure, afraid that I might not come back.
The thought tightened something deep in my chest.
It reminded me where my priorities truly lay. My son came first. Always. I needed to return to him as soon as possible.
I had to make a decision. If Ashton planned to drag out the negotiation, I would have no choice but to find another buyer. I could only hope I found someone who genuinely cared about the bakery and would continue its legacy with the same passion Marie once had.
Exhausted by my thoughts, I decided it was time to head back to the cottage.
A sound at the door startled me. For a brief moment, I assumed it was Eva returning.
Then I froze.
Standing before me was the last woman I ever expected to see.
She wore white pants and a pink floral blouse, standing tall and composed, her eyes fixed on me as if she were judging my worth and waiting for my reaction.
The woman who replaced my late mother.
Amelie.
My father’s new wife.
