I’m just about to lock up when the door swings open. Celine had left earlier after we finished the pizza, saying they needed her at the Winter Wonderland project.Sebastian’s here again. A part of me acknowledge the way my heart reacts to seeing him, but I shove it down, too afraid I might say something I shouldn’t. Or maybe… I’m just not ready to forgive him yet.He steps inside, looking at me. “I didn’t like how we left things this morning.”I exhale and turn away. “Sebastian, I don’t have the energy for this right now.”“You don’t have to talk, just listen.”I should tell him to leave. I should shut the door on whatever this is before it spirals into something I can’t control. But I don’t.I lean against the counter, arms crossed defensively. “Fine. Talk.”He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “I know I hurt you. I know I messed up.” He swallows. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. But, Selina… I meant what I said. I care. And no matter you push me away, I won
I step out of my house. My mind is still clouded with last night’s realization. Pregnancy. It feels surreal, like a dream I haven’t fully woken up from. My hands rest on my stomach as I walk toward the bakery. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until I see Sebastian.He’s standing outside the bakery, unloading boxes from a delivery truck. I just stand there, watching him. He shouldn’t be here. I don’t even want to see him right now.I clear my throat and step forward. “What are you doing here?”He looks up, surprised. Then, as if he expected this reaction, he sighs and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Just passing by. Saw the delivery guy struggling. Figure I’d help.”I cross my arms, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches at the sight of him. “I had this handled.”“Did you?” He raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the unopened bakery doors. “You weren’t even here yet.”I hate that he has a point. But still. “I didn’t ask for your help.”“I know,” he says simply. “But I wasn’t go
I sit at the kitchen table. The bottle of prenatal vitamins sits in front of me. The little white pills seem so innocent, but my eyes can’t help but trace their outline, over and over again. I don’t know why, but I can’t bring myself to open the bottle. It’s like doing so would make it real, and I’m not ready for that.I glance at the card beside it, the one the doctor gave me. Follow-up appointment. The time, the date—everything is laid out for me in neat, orderly numbers, but inside, nothing feels neat or orderly. I want to run away from it, as though I can somehow escape this. But I know I can’t.This is real. And I don’t know what to do.What happens now? What am I supposed to do?The feeling of panic rises like a wave, threatening to drown me. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, trying to find a shred of calm. I’ve faced hard things before. This can’t be worse than any of them.But it is. It is worse. Because this is my future. This is something I can’t change, no matter how muc
I feel the world blur around me, like I’m not entirely here. The bakery is unusually quiet for this time of day, and it’s unsettling. My hands tremble as I stack the last few pastries in the display case. The air feels suffocating, like something is about to snap.The door jingles, and I look up to see Celine walking in, her long coat trailing behind her. She’s practically glowing with energy, holding up a stack of glossy cards.“Hey, Selina! I brought the invitations for the Winter Wonderland showcase,” she chirps, her smile as bright as ever.I force a weak smile and nod. “Thanks, Celine. Just put them on the counter.” My voice sounds distant, even to myself.She pauses, narrowing her eyes at me. “Okay, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”“I’m fine,” I mumble, trying to wave her off. But the moment the words leave my mouth, my head spins. I grip the counter’s edge, feeling the world tilt slightly.Celine’s not buying it. She walks right up to me. “Selina, you’re not fine. You’re pale, and—
I can’t stop thinking about it. The dream. The way it felt like Sebastian was right there with me, like I could still feel his hands on my skin, his lips against mine. I try to shake it off as I walk around the bakery, arranging pastries and wiping down the counter, but every movement feels wrong. Like I’m still wrapped in that dream, like it’s not over yet.I breathe out slowly, focusing on the familiar sounds—the hum of the oven, the soft clink of the cash register, the chatter of customers. But there’s no escaping it. Every time I pass a mirror, I see my flushed cheeks. Every time I touch something, it’s like his hands are still there.My fingers tremble a little as I put a tray of croissants into the display case. Damn it, I can’t even focus.“Morning, Selina!”I turn to see Mrs. Blake, one of my regulars, smiling at me as she walks in. She’s always cheerful, always asking about the bakery and how things are going.“Good morning, Mrs. Blake,” I say. “The usual?”“You know it! And
I’m finally in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Dinner with Sebastian was… fine, I guess. Well, not really. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was awkward, and honestly, it kind of pissed me off. I kept waiting for him to say something, like really say something, but of course, he didn’t. Just that broody, unreadable face of his, like he’s a got a thousand things going on in his head but won’t let me in on even one of them. Typical.But I know better than to trust those feelings. It’s too soon to forgive him. Way too soon.And now here I am, trying to wind down, but my brain has other plans. It’s like the second I got into bed, all thoughts I’d been avoiding decided to gang up on me.Of course, the main culprit is him.I mean, the way he looked at me tonight… I don’t know. It was intense. Like he was searching for something in me, but I don’t know that. And honestly, I don’t think I want to know. Because every time I let my guard down around him, I get hurt.But then m
“Thanks for walking me home,” I mumble, feeling weirdly awkward.He glances at me, probably surprised that I’ve said anything at all. “No problem. I wasn’t going to leave you out here in the rain.”I don’t say anything to that. Of course, he wasn’t. It’s just who he is, right? The knight in shining armor who always swoops in to save the day. But sometimes I wonder if it’s all some act for him, something he does to make himself feel better. Like helping me is more about proving something to himself than actually caring.The rain’s coming down harder as we get to my house. I can feel him about to say something, but I don’t wait for it. I just turn and start heading to the door, my hands slippery from the rain as I dig through my bag for my keys. The cold rain’s soaking me, but at least it makes it easier to ignore how tense things are between us. Behind me, I hear him follow.“Selina, wait.” I turn around. He’s standing a few steps away. “Let me at least walk you to the door.”I sigh, t
Selina's POV“I know you’re still angry at me. But please, don’t do anything you’ll regret just because you’re angry. And… I miss you.”Miss me? He’s the reason I’m in this mess. He’s the reason my mother’s gone. And he misses me? What am I supposed to do with that?I want to delete the text, but I stop myself. Instead, I shove the phone back into my pocket and keep walking.The bakery feels empty when I get there. I don’t bother turning on the lights. The sunlight streaming through the windows is enough. I sit behind the counter, staring at the same spot on the floor where my mom used to stand, kneading dough with her usual determined expression.I’m not sure how long I sit there, when Celine suddenly arrived.“You look like hell,” she says, her heels clicking against the tile as she walks in. She heads to the counter and grabs two cups. “I’ll make us some coffee,” she says casually, already getting the machine going. “You need it.”I take the cup, wrapping my hands around it. She si
Sebastian's POVI can’t stop staring at her as she walks away.We were at her mother’s grave when I told her everything. I thought it made sense—the right place, the right time. I explained how it all happened, why I kept it from her for so long. But she left me standing there. Her words hit me like a slap: I don’t know if I can forgive you.I wanted to give her space. I really tried. But I couldn’t. The thought of her out there, hurting, alone? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening. So, like the idiot I am, I followed her.She didn’t notice. She had too much on her mind, and honestly, I don’t blame her. She went straight to a bar. A freaking bar.I parked a few blocks away, debating whether I should leave or… I don’t know, go in and drag her out. But I stayed put. I mean, I get it. I knew she needed space, time to think, to process everything. And I wanted to respect that. She needed to clear her head. But the thought of her in there, surrounded by strangers, maybe drowning in everything I