“I passed by your place. You weren’t there.”
A prickling wave crawls up my neck. My breath stutters.No, no, no.
“You need to be careful, sweetheart.” The pet name is a blade disguised as a caress. “There are people out there who don’t have your best interests at heart.”
He’s not talking about people. He’s talking about himself.
The pressure in my chest feels like it’s caving inward, and for a moment I can’t pull in enough air.
I’m so focused on keeping my breathing steady that the sound of the bakery’s back door opening makes me flinch hard.
When I look up, Gabe’s standing there, filling the doorway.
Concern shadows his face instantly, his brows pulling together. “What’s wrong?”
I blink at him, my phone still pressed to my ear.
“Why are you here?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean, brittle with panic.
He steps closer, tilting his head just slightly, and that’s when I feel the wetness on my cheeks.
“Baby, you’re crying.”
The sound of that word—baby—hits wrong, tangling with the memory of Scott’s voice using it like a chain. My pulse spikes, and I push at Gabe’s chest when he comes to wrap me in a hug.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, my voice cracking on the last syllable.
Gabe stops, but he doesn’t step away completely. Instead, he reaches up, brushing the loose strands of hair from my face. His hand is warm, steady, as he rests it lightly against the side of my head, thumb brushing in slow arcs just behind my ear.
“You’re okay,” he says, low and even. “You’re okay, Sadie.”
The phone is still in my hand, the line dead now—either he hung up or I somehow disconnected without realizing—but my fingers are cramped around it.
I focus on Gabe’s voice, on the faint scent of rain and smoke clinging to his shirt.
“You’re okay,” he repeats, softer this time, his palm rubbing gentle circles against my upper back.
It takes a few long breaths before my lungs feel like they’re actually working again.
When I can finally pull in a steady breath without my chest seizing, I nod. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he steps back just enough for me to feel like I can move again.
We leave the back room together. Cora is behind the counter, her expression a mix of worry and quiet relief when she sees me upright.
“Thanks for calling,” Gabe says to her.
Her eyes flick to me before she nods, murmuring something about being glad I’m okay.
Outside, the air is cool, smelling faintly of wet pavement.
“I can’t believe you were the one she called,” I say, still feeling unsteady.
Gabe shakes his head. “Actually, she called her husband, but he wasn’t available. I was already in town.”
“Oh.” My voice is small, but I nod, trying to process that.
And then I see it.
