“Are you sure you can eat all of that? I don’t mean that offensively, but you’re so petite. I figured you watched what you ate and assumed?—”
“Word of advice, Jerry. You should never comment on a woman’s weight, no matter what their body type is. Everybodyis beautiful, and you should never assume what a woman can and can’t handle.”
He straightens in his seat at my comment, taking it as a challenge and not the insult I meant it as. He smiles and gives me a nod. “Noted. I apologize.”
“You live and you learn.”
Jerry shrugs, glancing out the window before turning back to me. “What is it that you do for a living?”
“I’m a podiatrist.” He flashes a proud smile.
We spend the next twenty minutes discussing Jerry’s profession as a foot doctor. I wish I had never asked the question, becausenow my stomach is souring at some of the stories he’s sharing with me. I do my best to put a dent in my dinner as he continues with stories from his college days and what led him to becoming a podiatrist. He also spends a full five minutes telling me all sorts of podiatrist jokes. This guy sure loves to talk about himself.
I’m nodding my head to something Jerry is saying, without really listening, when my eyes land on the booth across from us. I recognize the couple, because of course I do—this is a small town after all. Elliott Russell, who works with my best friend, Luke, meets my gaze. He gives me a small wave, which gets his girlfriend, Cindy Potter, to turn around and greet me.
As she does, Elliott seizes the moment and drops to one knee. When Cindy turns back around, she lets out a squeal as he opens a small velvet box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. Jerry stops mid-sentence before turning toward the commotion.
I plaster on a polite smile, but inside, a sharp pang tightens in my chest. It’s not just the proposal or the way Cindy’s eyes shine as Elliott slips the ring on her finger. It’s the way everyone around them instantly erupts into cheers that, for a moment, I feel like I’m watching life happen through a window—close enough to see but too far away to touch.
I’ve known Elliott and Cindy forever. After three years together, an engagement was inevitable. I’m happy for them, but all I can focus on is the weight of it pressing down on me—all the things I don’t have, all the things I thought I’d be closer to by now.
I’m not jealous, exactly. It feels more like grief, as if I’m mourning something I never truly had the chance to have. It’s just another quiet reminder of how deeply alone I really am.
I don’t get much time to wallow in my self-pity because after everyone in the diner, Jerry included, finishes clapping for the couple, Cindy jumps out of Elliott’s arms and rushes toward me. She pulls me out of my seat and wraps me into a tight hug.
“Can you believe it?” she says, placing her left hand into mine. I force a smile, my stomach twisting in knots as I stare at the ring. “Did you know he was going to propose? I was totally thrown off when I noticed you sitting behind us.”
“I had no idea.” My mouth suddenly becomes dry. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you both.”
Elliott slings his arm around Cindy’s shoulder as he looks at her with heart-shaped irises before saying, “Thanks, Olivia. I saw you and knew you’d make the perfect distraction. I’m sorry if we interrupted your date.”
“It’s okay. Congratulations,” Jerry says, offering Elliott a firm handshake and a polite smile.
Jerry clears his throat beside me then says, “So, you seem pretty popular. Do you run your own bakery in Covewood?” He runs his tongue over his teeth, casually easing into a new topic.
I take a long drink of water, buying myself a moment before answering. “Kind of. I work from home. I mostly do custom orders, but I also deliver baked goods to local businesses.” I glance over my shoulder, pointing toward downtown. This time, it’s my turn to smile.
Jerry’s face, however, looks unimpressed.
“At least you won’t be in serious debt with the school you had to attend. I’ll be paying off my school loans for years to come. Wait, did you even have to go to school for baking?”
Okay, that might be the last straw for me. That came out as an insult, and I’ve worked extremely hard toward my career, poured my heart and soul into everything I do, and I’ve had great success.
“Yes,Larry,I went to culinary school,” I snap, my jaw dropping slightly from the smug look on his face. He doesn’t even care that I called him the wrong name—on purpose. “But I know some amazing bakers and restaurant owners who didn’t go to school. In some cases, learning a skill all on your own isworth more than earning a college degree. I’m thankful that I’ve already paid off all my school debt.”
Of course, with perfect timing, dessert arrives at the table. I ordered the lemon-poppy cake, and as Stefanie sets it down in front of me, my mood instantly lifts. Dessert is the most important meal of the day, after all.
Thankfully, we drop the heated discussion as we enjoy our desserts. I peer over and inspect the hot fudge cake that Jerry ordered. He dips his spoon into the hot fudge, scooping up a bite, and pushes it into his mouth. As he swallows, he grimaces, and says, “I should’ve known better than ordering this. It’s too rich.”
He then reaches across the table with his fork for a bite of my cake. I’m too shocked to push him away, and as he slips a bite into his mouth and hums a sound of approval, I’m assaulted. Dessert is sacred, and I only share it with people I respect.
“Now,thisis delicious," he adds before licking his spoon.
“I’m glad you think so, because this cream-cheese icing is life changing, and it’s actually a recipe I came up with and gave to the owner.”
I roam my eyes around the restaurant, and by the grace of God, I see my friends, Zane and Ashton, seated at a nearby table. I excuse myself to the restroom before rushing over to them.
Ashton sees me first, giving me a small wave, but his smile falters the moment I crouch down beside them and whisper, “Help me!”
