I take the book, and my stomach caves in on itself. Of all the things he could’ve brought her… a law book. Of course. I trace the cover with my thumb, trying to keep my face neutral, while my insides splinter.
“I, uh, put a note inside for her too,” Bishop adds, almost shy.
I finally manage a small smile, even though my heart feels like it’s beating in quicksand. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”
His grin returns, faint but genuine. “Thanks.” Then, almost like he’s remembering where he is, he adds, “And since I’m here, I’ll grab a few muffins to go. And… throw in one of those jalapeño cheddar bagels, too.”
“Of course.” I busy my hands, bagging up the order, grateful for something to do besides crumble. When I hand it over, he slips a fifty across the counter.
“Keep the change,” he says.
I shake my head quickly. “No, I couldn’t take all that. I’ll get you your change.”
He shakes his head right back, stubborn but kind. “No, you’re good.” Then his eyes meet mine, steady, almost too steady. “And Ella? Just so you know, I’m rooting for you. You’re one of the good ones.”
For a second, I can’t breathe.
Then he’s gone, the door chiming closed behind him, leaving me standing there with a law book in my hands and a hollow ache in my chest.
About half an hour later, Ashton finally rushes in, oversized sunglasses on and hair tied up in the kind of bun that screams, “I regret last night.”
“Sorry, I’m late,” she groans, plopping her bag on the counter. “Still hungover. Remind me never to do tequila again.”
I arch a brow. “Someone popped in to see you.”
Her head lifts, curiosity cracking through her hangover. “Who?”
“He’s tall,” I say slowly, “and he really likes boats.”
Ashton straightens, her lips parting in surprise. “Bishop was back?” The way her voice pitches higher, more excited than I’d expected, makes me bite back a grin.
“Yeah,” I say, sliding the thick law book across the counter. “He left this. And… apparently a note inside.”
She blinks, genuinely taken aback, then picks up the book. The weight of it seems to impress her, but when she opens the cover and spots the folded slip tucked into the first page, her mouth curves into the kind of smirk that belongs in a courtroom win. She unfolds it carefully, eyes flicking over the words as she reads them aloud.
“Thought this might inspire you like it did me. — Bishop” When she looks up again, her grin has turned sly. “Beauty and brains. Finally, a man who doesn’t make me choose.”
I draw in a sharp breath.
Her smirk fades, her eyes narrowing as she studies me. “Ella… are you okay?”
I almost brush off her question with my usual joke, but then I glance around the bakery, steady, serious. I exhale, register surprise at my own answer as the words tumble out.
“I think I’m going to be okay,” I say, my voice firmer than I would have expected. “Actually… more than okay. I love my life. The life I built. I have an amazing best friend who shows up for me even when she’s hungover. I have the world’s best mom. A psycho cat who thinks he runs the apartment. A judgmental fish that stares me down every time I eat sushi. And I have this bakery… that feels like home every single day.” I swallow, straightening my shoulders. “And with or without Nathan, I’m still me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”
Ashton’s expression softens into something proud.
“You’re absolutely right…” “You help more people than you know, Ella.”
I flash a thankful smile… then look back to her.
“I need to go do something,” I tell Ashton, pulling my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”
She gives me a single, sure nod. “Go. I’ve got you.”
And with that, I walk out the door, not broken, not waiting to be saved, but stronger than I’ve felt in a long time. I stop at the corner. A city bus blasts through the intersection.
The sound punches the air beside me.
