Six months ago, I was furious. Burned out. Humiliated after the playoff collapse.
Drowning in bad press and sports commentary about whether I was still elite enough to justify my contract.
A fresh start had sounded like survival.
Now?
I look through the bakery window again.
Jillie is drawing smiley faces in spilled flour while Sadie pretends to scold her.
And somehow New York suddenly feels very far away.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally.
Marcus nearly chokes. “Think about it?”
“Yes.”
“This is not a muffin flavor, Colby. This is your career.”
My eyes stay on the bakery.
“That’s the problem.”
Silence.
Then: “What the hell is happening to you in Briar Cove?”
I wish I knew.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t wait too long. The Vipers want movement quickly.”
I hang up before he can keep talking.
For a moment I just stand there in the cold. Snow crunches beneath my boots. The bakery windows glow warmly. Main Street slowly wakes around me.
And somehow the thought of leaving makes my chest feel strangely hollow.
That should concern me more than it does.
Inside the bakery, the bell over the door jingles as I step in. Warmth immediately wraps me.
“Colby!” Jillie waves dramatically from the counter stool. “Mommy says edible glitter is not a food group.”
Sadie doesn’t look up from frosting cupcakes. “Because it isn’t.”
“That feels anti-celebration.”
I shrug off my coat slowly. “I support joy.”
“See?” Jillie says triumphantly.
Sadie finally glances at me. And immediately notices something.
“You okay?”
