(Scarlett’s POV)
I talk for what feels like hours, painting the vision of my bakery for Andrew.
Two weeks later, I'm standing in my original bakery, Sunrise Bakes, at five in the morning, kneading dough for the day's first batch of sourdough. The familiar rhythm soothes my nerves, but something feels off.
My phone buzzes with another notification. I ignore it, trying to focus on the feel of the dough beneath my hands. Smooth, elastic, perfect. To rediscover the lost connection between my hands and the bread, the inner peace that comes with doing what I love best.
But the phone keeps buzzing, interrupting my concentration.
I wipe my flour-covered hands on my apron and finally check my messages. Fifteen missed calls from Chloe. My stomach drops.
I call her back immediately.
"Thank G
