“Glenda, we’re leaving,” I hear him call out to Mom.
The conversation in the living room comes to an abrupt stop. A moment later, two sets of footsteps move through the space, slow at first, then gradually fading.
Silence settles in.
Not long after, a soft knock comes from the bedroom door.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tess says gently as she steps in. “Gwen asked me to tell you she’s not feeling well. She had to leave,” she explains.
I turn around immediately.
“What? Where is she?” I ask, panic creeping into my voice.
“Leo is driving her home. I’m really sorry,” Tess adds, her tone sincere.
“Did she hear my dad?” I ask.
Tess lowers her shoulders slightly. “I think so.”
I close my eyes briefly. I should’ve known. This was probably exactly what my dad wanted.
“Tess… you know her well. What can I do to fix this? I don’t want to lose her,” I admit, the words coming out more like a plea than anything else.
“That’s why I stayed,” she says softly, offering a reassuring smile. “Let’s figure something out together.”
Then she steps back out, leaving me alone in the room with nothing but the weight of everything that just happened.
Chapter 21
Gwen
ME: Let’s lay low for a bit.
I’ve read the message I sent to Zane more times than I can count. Half of me stands by it, we need to lay low. I can’t risk his career. The other half wants to delete the message, rewind everything, and pretend I never sent it.
Instead, I sit with it.
I go to Sunrise & Salt early and open the bakery with Tess. I bake like I’m trying to earn a merit badge in Avoiding Feelings. Flour ends up on my cheek, and I don’t even notice until a customer points it out. I laugh like it’s charming. I make small talk. I rearrange the pastry case more times than necessary, as if the perfect angle of a croissant will somehow restore order to my thoughts.
Leo shows up at nine-thirty wearing his “responsible boyfriend” face, which is ironic considering I’ve seen him eat cake for breakfast with a fork he once found in his hoodie pocket.
He leans against the prep table, watching me pull a tray out of the oven. “You don’t look so good.”
I don’t look at him. “Good morning to you, too.”
“I’m serious,” he says, nodding toward my hands. “You look grumpy. And you’re angry baking.”
“I am not angry,” I reply too quickly, setting the tray down harder than necessary. One muffin visibly collapses on impact.
Leo raises an eyebrow. “That muffin was innocent.”
“It was smug,” I mutter.
Tess, at the register, doesn’t even glance up. “Gwen. Take a breath and drink some water.”
I point at her without turning around. “Stop being right over there.”
Leo lets out a quiet, amused hum. “So. How’s the lay-low era going?”
