“Did he think I wouldn’t be able to handle it?”
My heart stopped.
“What happened?”
Becca sighed softly. “When I came back… you were sitting next to him, laughing about something. I think you were telling him a story about your neighbor or your grocery shopping.”
I closed my eyes.
“And he just looked at you,” she continued. “Then he said, ‘Not today. I want another normal day with her.’”
The silence stretched between us.
“After that, he made me move the pillow,” she added softly. “It put it even further out of sight.”
I closed my eyes.
“What happened?”
Because that was Anthony…the wrong Anthony, stubborn and loving.
He had seen me work double shifts when his father got sick. He’d seen me sell my grandmother’s bracelet when the roof needed repair.
And he’d seen me give up on my dream of opening a bakery with a shrug so studied I almost thought it didn’t hurt.
“It wasn’t his place to decide for me,” I whispered. “He loved me, but he made the choice anyway.”
That was Anthony… the wrong Anthony, stubborn and loving.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, then brought it back.
“I would have stayed. I would have taken everything with me. He couldn’t have chosen the easier version of me.”
“I know,” Becca said softly.
“But he did,” I said. “He chose it anyway.”
***
I lowered the phone and glanced at the last folder.
For a moment, I almost closed the page. Because whatever was still inside… it was the rest of the truth.
Inside were trust documents, a business bank account, a lease option, and paperwork proving he’d sold his father’s 1968 Mustang to finance the purchase. He’d loved that car since he was seventeen.
His notes were scribbled in the margins:
Good foot traffic.
Ask about the front window.
Ember won’t stand the original paint color; change it to sage green.
He’d loved that car since he was seventeen.
I laughed through my tears. “What a smart guy.”
At the top of the first page, he’d written the name in capital letters:
“The coals are cooking.”
I covered my mouth.
Twenty years ago, I wanted a bakery so badly I could smell it in my sleep.
Beneath the trust documents was one last sheet.
“You’re a smart guy.”
“My embers,
Thank you for every ordinary day you’ve made magical.
If I could do it all over again, I’d only look for you. Tired, flour on my shirt, you tell me not to fret as you silently carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.
I’d ask you again. I’d choose you again. In every version of this life, I’d still walk toward you.
“I’d only look for you.”
When the first customer came in, I almost panicked. Not because of the sweets; I knew those well.
For a moment, I forgot that Anthony wouldn’t be there to say, “See? I told you people would be lining up.”
The woman pointed to the pink pillow framed under the sign. “That pink pillow looks important,” she said. “A family thing?”
My hand paused for a moment, then I smiled. “Yes. That’s where my husband kept the most important moments of our lives.”
“The bakery?” I added, glancing at the bakeries, the line, the life that awaited me. “That part… I chose it.”
“See? I told you people would be queuing.”
