Novel & Cerita The Particular Sadness Of Lemon Cake

"Too sweet. It tastes like pure sugar, Elena." "Exactly," I had agreed instantly, nodding my head. Ryan looked over at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Wait. Did we just agree on something?" "Don't get used to it, Carter," I had laughed, leaning back in my chair. A few minutes later, the baker brought out a lemon fondant cake that looked beautiful but tasted completely hollow. My mom went to the bathroom to look at a catering binder, leaving the two of us alone. Ryan leaned across the table, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "That cake tastes like drywall. I think I just chewed on a piece of literal cardboard."

Suddenly, Lexie opened my door, wearing yet another snug set of pajamas, her shape clearly visible. She looked at me, a hint of restlessness in her expression, and asked, "Mr. Kane, do you have any cucumbers lying around? I'm kind of hungry and would like to eat something." Of course, I knew exactly what she wanted to do with a cucumber. Last night, she was barely satisfied when Amanda summoned her back to the bedroom. Tonight, she had to be dying for a release. Meanwhile, the fire in me had long been ignited during breakfast this morning. Now that a beautiful, young woman was at my door, how could I even resist?

I had spent it rifling through the lair of the man who had likely killed him, my soul being stained with a knowledge that felt like a spiritual contaminant. “I saved you cake,” a small, sweet voice piped up beside Lester. Lena. She was holding out a paper plate with a sliver of slightly smushed chocolate cake on it, her eyes wide and earnest. It was the most beautiful, heartbreaking thing I had ever seen. A simple, kind gesture from a world that no longer existed, a tiny monument to innocence in a landscape of corruption.

“You won’t like it.” “Oh, ew. Never mind then. Put that one down, Raymond.” “I still want to try it,” he argues, taking a bite. “It’s good.” “It’s gross, and I don’t want it at our wedding,” Rhiannon fires back. She sounds like the spoiled princess she is, and Raymond doesn’t argue with her, just finishes his bite of it. We all have some of the lemon cake and the red velvet next, ranking them on our little cards. “The lemon is good,” Rhiannon says, tapping her pencil. “But lemon at a winter wedding? What do you think, Tum?”

The moment I took the first bite, I hurried to wash it down with tea. Snapping my notebook shut, I tossed it into my bag. “Done with your notes?” Arthur asked, devouring his slice. “I don’t need notes anymore. With that attitude toward their own creations, they won’t even make the top ten.” “I don’t get what you don’t like,” he said, finishing the last bite. “The lemon filling boiled over, and the meringue collapsed. What’s the point of explaining? I’ll bake you a cake myself — then you’ll understand.”

“Little Lemon!” Mable rushed over and picked Lemon up. Lemon hugged her mother and pressed her cheek against her face, pointing at the butterfly in Jeremiah’s hand. “Mommy... Unc... Butterfwy...” Mable kissed her cheek. “Good girl.” Jeremiah looked at Mable and said, “Lemon kept crying earlier, so I thought she was unwell. It seems she just misses you after not seeing you all day...” Mable sighed in relief. She thought that Lemon was sick and was worried the whole way back.

Only then did I slowly open my hand to look at what Julian had given me. A lemon. I stared at it for several seconds before I even fully processed what I was looking at. That idiot. At some point while we were trespassing through his professor’s yard like criminals, Julian had apparently stolen a lemon. It wasn’t fully ripe yet. The peel was still tinged green beneath the yellow, and when I lifted it closer absentmindedly, a faint citrus scent drifted into the air—fresh and slightly bitter and strangely clean. For some reason, that smell made my chest ache unexpectedly.

I said finally “I assure you that you will not be let down.” He said and I let out a small laugh. “Where do you suggest I start?” “Probably with chocolate or red velvet,” he brought out tiny forks, “They are the most common and therefore the safest.” “Alright then; let’s go.” It was so hard to choose a cake because they all tasted amazing. I ended up getting the lemon, cheesecake and coffee. I didn’t want something too common. “Your Luna ceremony is going to be one for the history books,” Diana said as we got into the car. “It is so different from the others.”

After paying, they returned to the car, bringing the sweet aroma of the cake with them. "Thanks for your recommendation. Arren will surely love it," Leon said to his driver. The driver smiled. "Glad I could help, Sir." With the box of strawberry sorbet cake on his lap, Leon couldn't wait to reach the Mansion and surprise Arren with this sweet treat. His heart raced; he felt joyful. The car smoothly traversed the brightly lit road as the sun was now high in the sky. Leon's afternoon meeting might not have yielded results, but at least he could bring a box of happiness to his beloved wife.

“Okay, I hate you slightly less.” We went over the list together, and I started prepping the second dessert: a lemon-lavender olive oil cake. Light, delicate, summery, although I don’t know if it is summer time here, but I believe it’s perfect to balance the richness of the chocolate. Then came the part where I made the tragic mistake of letting Liam help. He tried whisking too fast and flung cream onto the cabinets. He handed me salt instead of sugar twice. He dropped an entire egg carton on the floor and swore like someone had stabbed him this time.