“Don't you dare take this from me," Tilly cuts me off. “I need this.”
I laugh at how dramatic she is in true Tilly fashion. The bake-off competition is over, but people are still hanging around. I'm lingering because I don't want to go home. I also don't want to check my phone. I purposely left it behind because I knew I would have been checking it nonstop. It was better to not have it on me so I wouldn’t think about Noah the entire time.
"Do you have any plans tonight?" I ask Tilly as my eyes drift across the people still milling around. It's split between locals and tourists, and each year this gets bigger and bigger.
My eyes linger on the couples, and I swear everyone is paired up this year. A few even have silly matching Christmas sweaters. I picture myself getting some for Noah and me. I can almost imagine the way he’d give them strange looks, but I think he would still wear it.
Who am I kidding? I'm making up crap now. I don't know if Noah is coming back, and I need to stop putting those thoughts into my head. Until I know where we stand, it’s pointless. Next I’m going to be picturing our kids wearing the sweaters too. All three of them. Okay, maybe four.
“Molly,” Tilly says, poking my side.
“What?”
“You asked me a question, and I answered. Are you daydreaming over there?” she asks, and I nod.
“It will break my heart if he doesn’t come back,” I admit out loud for the first time. Tilly reaches over to grab my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“What if he asked you to move to the city? I have no idea what he does for a living, but it’s there, isn’t it?”
“I think he travels sometimes for work, but a lot of his jobs are in the city,” I tell her.
“Answer the rest of my question. I don’t know why you think those little tricks work on me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to answer. I was thinking it over.”
Tilly’s brows rise in surprise. “Molly, if you’re weighing out your options, I think that kind of says it all.”
As the time away from Noah has started to stretch longer, the hole in my chest is getting bigger. It’s letting me know exactly how deeply I’m in this with him. I was thinking yesterday that if by some chance he came to live here, I would need to pull back on my hours and slow down. Yesterday it would have been wonderful if I could have gone with him for the day. I was already sorting out in my mind how I'd do that and the changes I would have to make to the bakery if that were the case.
“I know,” I say and let out a deep breath. “It’s going to hurt if it falls apart, which it already might be.”
“Yeah, but you’ll get through it. Going through these experiences is not the worst thing that can happen. I know you don’t want to, and I get why. You’ve had a lot of big losses in your life, but wouldn’t it be worth it if in the end you get what you truly want? Because if you never get it, that will hurt too. Maybe even more.”
"Stop being all logical," I say as I elbow her.
"He'll be back," Tilly says with pure confidence.
"How do you know?"
"You're easy to love and adore."
"Now you're going to make me cry." I elbow her again, and she turns, pulling me in for a hug.
"You got this. You're tougher than you know. I couldn't even pick the dessert. Did you see the little red-haired girl with the curls and oversized glasses?"
"Tilly!" I gasp. "You were judging off the people too?"
"Maybe?" She bites her bottom lip nervously, and I grin.
The little girl won the competition. She came with her uncle, and they made the cake together.
"You're a sucker,” I tell her as I hug her again.
Tilly is truly my counterpart. She pretends to be extra tough, but that girl is all marshmallow inside.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” she says and then rolls her eyes at herself.
“Never,” I agree and stand up.
