“We need to talk,” he says quietly.
I force myself to stay behind the counter like distance matters physically now.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“That’s not true.”
Silence stretches between us. Heavy. Careful.
Then he asks softly: “What changed?”
Everything inside me tightens painfully, because he genuinely doesn’t know. He truly doesn’t understand what overhearing that trade conversation did to me.
“You got your offer,” I say flatly.
Realization hits his face instantly.
“Sadie—”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.”
“Why?” I laugh shakily. “Because I figured out reality?”
His jaw tightens. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I understand perfectly.” My voice cracks despite my best effort. “Briar Cove was temporary. This was temporary. I was temporary.”
His expression hurts to look at now, like I physically wounded him. Maybe now he finally understands how terrifying this feels from my side.
“You think that’s what this is?” he asks quietly.
“What else would it be?”
Silence.
Then: “You matter to me.”
The words land like impact. I grip the counter edge hard enough that my knuckles ache.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
His eyes lock onto mine. Too honest. Too open.
“Sadie—”
“You’re leaving anyway,” I snap suddenly. Emotion finally cracks wide open inside me. “So maybe we should stop pretending this matters before Jillie gets hurt.”
The second her name leaves my mouth, everything changes.
Colby goes completely still. And suddenly he understands all of it. Not my pride. Not my anger. My fear.
Jillie.
Always Jillie.
Silence fills the bakery. The heater hums softly overhead. Snow drifts past the windows.
