The bakery was alive with the rhythm of preparation—trays of cookies cooling, bread rising in the ovens, Marissa piping frosting with practiced ease. Holly moved between stations, her mind focused on the growing list of New Year’s orders. She hadn’t heard from the Chief since his visit, and though the shadow of Crystal lingered, she pushed it aside. There was work to be done.
The bell jingled, and Holly froze when she saw Jon step inside. Her stomach tightened, bracing for another argument, another round of excuses. Lee, who had been stacking boxes near the counter, immediately straightened, his protective instinct sharp.
But Jon surprised them all.
“I’m not here to fight,” he said, his voice low, almost weary. “I came to apologize.”
Holly blinked, uncertain. “Apologize?”
Jon nodded,
