Semua Bab Frosted with Love: Bab 41 - Bab 50

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

Sebastian’s POVI feel it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there, lurking just beyond my reach. Selina is hiding something from me. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know her too well. I can see it in the way she holds herself, in the way she avoids certain questions, in the way her smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes anymore. She’s always been good at hiding things, but this feels different.She’s always had her secrets, little things she keeps tucked away, but this? This is something else. It’s like she’s building walls around herself, brick by brick. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t break through.Is it Victor? I’ve thought about that a lot, but no… I don’t think it’s him. She’s moved on from him, or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Her eyes don’t soften when she talks about him anymore. So it can’t be him. But what is it then?Every time I look at her, I get this feeling, like there’s a knot forming inside me. I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s like a warning,

The cemetery is quiet as I settle on the stone bench beside my mother’s grave. I don’t really know why I came here tonight. Maybe I just needed to be somewhere that made sense.I set down the grocery bags beside me, pulling out a bag of cookies and a small tub of strawberries. Not exactly a proper meal, but it’s what I want to eat now. I pop a strawberry into my mouth.I look at the headstone. “Hey, Mom. It’s been a while.”I pull out a chocolate bar and break off a piece. “You always said chocolate fixes everything.” I place a small piece on the headstone, pretending she could still share snacks with me.The crunch of footsteps in the snow made me turn. I already know who it is before she speaks.“You have got to be kidding me.” Celine’s voice is amused. “You’re having picnic. In a cemetery.”I sigh, shoving another cookie in my mouth. “Not a picnic. Just… eating.”She steps closer, hands in the pockets of her coat. “Eating. At night. In the snow. In front of a gravestone.”I roll my

Sebastian’s POVI can’t help it. I don’t trust myself to stay away from her, not when she’s hiding something—when I know she is. Something she’s keeping from me, something I’m not part of, something that shouldn’t be a secret.I’ve tried to tell myself it’s not my business, that she’s entitled to her privacy. But I can’t stop watching her. I can’t stop following her. I have to know. For her safety. I tell myself that every time I see her slip away to somewhere I can’t follow. The worst part? She doesn’t even know I’m doing it.I think of the day she went to the doctor. I watched her walk into that clinic, the soft curve of her back hidden beneath a long coat. What was she doing there? Was she sick? I hate the idea of her suffering alone, without me there to hold her hand, to take care of her like she deserves.But I can’t ask. Not when I don’t know what she’s hiding. I can’t. It would only drive her farther away.So, I waited. Watched from a distance, like some kind of stranger, when

I sit on the couch, hugging my knees, feeling the weight of the question he asked me. Over and over, I hear it in my head.“Are you pregnant?”His voice was calm. Steady. As if he already knew the truth, and I—so weak, so unprepared—couldn’t even look him in the eye.I didn’t say anything. He waited—God, he waited—but I just stand there, frozen.And now, I’m here. Alone. Wrapped in the silence of my own guilt. It’s overwhelming. Drowning me.I can still feel it. The cold air between us as he waited for me to say something, anything. But I couldn’t. I was too afraid. Too lost in my own head to say what was needed, what he deserved to hear.I close my eyes, trying to drown out the guilt. But it’s impossible. I feel like I’m being crushed, one heavy thought at a time.Each breath is a struggle.He asked me, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I couldn’t give him an answer.I try to calm myself, to remind myself that it’s okay. That I can handle this. But the truth is—deep down—I’m t