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We were tucked in the far corner of the back of Molly’s, out of sight of the pool table, which meant, mercifully, that I could also not see Rick.“They melted on my tongue.They’re all gone.”
She clapped her hands together in delight.“Thanks!It’s nice to have someone other than Toby, Rick and my parents to bake for.Ma’s becoming critical now that I’m getting good.”She rolled her eyes.“I remind her whenever she criticizes me that she taught me everything I know.”
I laughed.“Parents.When I first started my business, my mum was deeply suspicious of all the social media involved.”
Jenny sipped her mojito.“Do you want to talk about what happened?At home, with your fiancé.Jess only touched on it, but-” She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head.“No.You know what?We only just met.Please tell me to shut up and mind my own business.”
I sighed, taking a swig of my delightfully crisp pear cider while I thought it over.“Do you really want to hear about it?It’s depressing.”
Jenny leaned forward to take my hand.“If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.”
“Okay.Well…” I chewed it over mentally for a second.As I let myself think about the week before I flew out here, the happy chatter around us and the dulcet tones of The Strangler’sGolden Brownfaded away.“Seb was so supportive when we met, or so I thought.”
Jenny frowned.“Go on?”
“Given time, I wonder if I thought he was supportive because he organized our social life for me, planned all the stuff we did when we weren’t working, but maybe I played into his hands by doing the things he wanted all the time, and not questioning it.”I clenched and unclenched the fingers of my free hand, hurt and anger and sadness balling up in my stomach.
“I’d been working at a prestigious hotel in London, one of a team who made their cakes and desserts, while building my online following and making Asian fusion cakes at discounts for friends.I did the odd company cake delivery, too.It was slow, but steady.Long hours.By far, my favourite thing was meeting people at fairs and markets, seeing them enjoy my food firsthand, but I didn’t have a car, and they clashed with weekend work at the hotel.I figured I would one day have my own space, if I did well enough.
“It took years, but the business grew, and I shortened my hotel hours.That was where Seb and I first met.He wanted to know who’d made this particular cake.”
“He was obviously enthralled,” Jenny interrupted.
I smiled.“Thank you for that ego boost.It was the hotel’s most extravagant dessert, but he could afford it, he’s a banker—”
“I know what that rhymes with,” Jenny snorted.
Her words brought some light relief to the memory and I chuckled..“Indeed.Anyway, by this point, I had twenty-five thousand subscribers to my platforms, two kitchen equipment companies sponsoring paid content, and I thought seriously about setting up shop somewhere.I would need a loan, or to co-occupy a space with another baker, but to see people enjoy my food right there?I’d started to think that was what I really wanted, long-term.To see the whole picture—make something, sell it to someone, see them eat and love it.”
Jenny nodded, listening intently, stirring her mojito absently with the little cocktail umbrella that had come with her drink.
I looked over Jenny’s shoulder, my eyes open but not seeing the bar scene around us, as I reminisced.“Seb had been constantly hinting that I should move in with him, so he could support me, but I wanted my independence - that’s why I’d moved out of my parents’ house.
“As my subscribers grew to thirty and then forty thousand, and orders piled up, I happily quit my hotel job.I could finally manage the rent on my flat without the extra job.
“Excited, I wrote to some shared shop spaces in the hip, foodie areas of the city.Seb suggested I use his address just for that, to circumvent my building’s poor postal system.I didn’t even think about anything going wrong.It made sense.”
“On my birthday, he proposed.I was delighted.I temporarily forgot about a shop space, and started planning my wedding cake.I’d made countless bridal cakes.I couldn’t wait to make my own.But I wanted to take my time planning the wedding.No need to rush.I’m glad that we didn’t rush into getting hitched.”
I swiped at my wet eyes, angry that just thinking about Seb could make tears spring up.I continued as Jenny listened, nodding sympathetically.“Time went on.I was happy.Anyway, last week, I happened to be at his place; I’d stayed over.He was in the shower.I went to the bin for something, glimpsed an envelope with my name on.Seb had received letters from the co-owned shop spaces, read them, binned them.”
Jenny’s mouth was hanging open.“What did you do?”
“I didn’t wait for him to get out of the shower.I left the letters where he could see them on the dining table and I stormed out.”
“Oh, Maddie,” Jenny whispered.
I curled my hands into fists and felt my nails bite into the skin of my palms.
“And then what?”Jenny uttered.
“He called a bunch of times.I didn’t answer.I rage-baked the last few cake orders I had to do before flying out here.I’m amazed they came out okay.He turned up at my tiny flat, and by then I’d cooled off enough that I decided to hear him out.”
I inhaled slowly.Retelling it made me angry, rather than sad.
I imagined I would eventually get to the sad part, but anger still dogged my every waking moment, or at least every moment that Seb intruded on my thoughts.
“The turd,” Jenny seethed.“What was his excuse?”
