Dominic's POV
The venue calls back Monday morning to confirm October eighteenth.
I'm in a meeting when Emma texts me. *It's official. No backing out now.*
I text back. *I wasn't going to back out.*
She sends a small cake emoji. I don't entirely understand the logic but I've learned to accept it as affection.
The meeting runs long and when I get home the girls are already bathed and Emma is at the kitchen table with flour on her forearm and something in the oven that makes the entire penthouse smell like brown butter and vanilla. She does this when she's nervous about something. Bakes without a recipe, just instinct.
"What's wrong?" I say.
She looks up. "Nothing's wrong."
"You're stress baking."
"I'm practice baking. For the exam."
"You made financiers yesterday."
"Those were dif
