Page 4 of The Oath Operation

"Like you and Noah?"

"Noah said he loved me from the beginning."

"Well, I loved Amari from the beginning."

"But…" Jacqui trailed off.

Jules wasn't sure she wanted to hear what her sister decided not to say. "I just need you to support me in this."

Jacqui reached out, but Jules pulled away, the pain and anger bubbling up inside her. "I’m just trying to look out for you."

"I don’t need you to look out for me. I can take care of myself."

With that, she turned and stormed out of the bakery, the cool air hitting her flushed face. She walked briskly, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She didn't even notice Fish standing nearby, his concerned gaze following her as she passed by.

ChapterThree

Fish watched as Jules walked past him without glancing up, her shoulders hunched and her pace hurried. The anger etched on her pixie face was palpable. She looked like an avenging Tinkerbell with short-cropped black hair. There was no fairy dust in her hands. Her fists were balled, preparing to fight an imaginary pirate. Beyond that fierce expression, Fish saw a deeper, more haunting expression—despair. His heart ached at the sight, a physical pain that made him scratch at his chest instinctively.

He couldn’t bear to see her like this. The once vibrant, light-hearted woman with a tinkling laugh and ready smile was crushed by the weight of her problems. It stirred something deep within him. He vowed then and there that he would rebuild the bakery, even if he had to do it single-handedly.

Turning to face the devastation, Fish took in the scene. The bakery, once a haven of warmth and sweetness, was now a charred shell. The scent of burnt wood and ash lingered in the air, mingling with the faint, ghostly aroma of baked goods. The blackened walls stood as a reminder of what had been lost. The shattered display cases wept for the treats they’d once held.

He walked through the wreckage, his boots crunching on broken glass and debris. The tables and chairs, which had hosted happy customers just a few days ago, were now twisted and broken. Fish could almost hear the echo of laughter and the clink of coffee cups, memories haunting the now silent space.

Standing in the center of the room, Fish closed his eyes, letting the sensory memories wash over him. The soft hum of the oven, the rustle of pages as customers read their books, the scraping of forks against porcelain plates as they aimed to get every last morsel of Jules' sweet treats. He could see Jules in his mind’s eye, her face lit up with pride and joy as she served her healthy creations. That vision spurred him into action.

He rolled up his sleeves, feeling the calluses on his hands—remnants of a past filled with brutal work in the theater of war. This wasn’t the battlefield he was used to, but the stakes felt just as high. For Jules, he would fight any adversary, even if it was charred wood and smoke damage.

Fish grabbed a pair of work gloves from his back pocket and pulled them on, flexing his fingers to make sure they fit snugly. He picked up a broom and started sweeping away the debris that littered the floor. The dust rose in clouds around him. He pressed on, clearing a path through the destruction.

Next, he moved to the charred remains of the counters and tables. He inspected each piece, determining which could be salvaged and which needed to be discarded. The heavy wooden tables, now blackened and brittle, were beyond saving. He hefted one up, muscles straining, and carried it to the growing pile of debris outside.

The work was grueling, but Fish thrived on it. It was physical, tangible—something he could control. He grabbed a crowbar and started prying loose the damaged floorboards. With each creak and snap, he imagined clearing away the obstacles standing in Jules’ way. Every plank that came free was a step closer to restoring her dream.

The floorboards creaked loudly in his ears, but it was from across the room, closer to the entry that connected the bakery to the restaurant. Jacqui stood in the doorway surveying the damage with a wary gaze.

Fish hoped his boss wasn't going to order him back into her kitchen. Chow Town was closed for the week to clean up the damage that had spilled over from the bakery. For the last year, Fish had done whatever the head chef had asked of him. Today he was prepared to go AWOL.

"It's a disaster," Jacqui said.

"I’m going to help her rebuild this place." He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, looking around at the progress he’d made. It wasn't much, but having started made him feel better.

Jacqui looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "You really care about her, don’t you?"

Fish shrugged. He'd never been one to talk about his feelings, not even when he was in puberty and bursting with them. Instead, he focused on forming a plan. First, he would clear out all the damaged materials, then he’d bring in new wood and supplies. His pension was barely enough to live on, but he didn't need much. He'd funnel it all into the bakery.

"Noah told you about our inheritance?"

Fish went still at Jacqui's words. He knew that Noah and Jacqui's quick marriage was due to her needing her inheritance money. He didn't know the exact amount, only that it was substantial—enough for her to rewire the entire building and do even more updates on the restaurant. But Jacqui could only gain access to that inheritance after she got married. Luckily for Jacqui, Noah was already head over heels for her when she proposed to him.

The night of the fire, Fish had offered the same arrangement to Jules. Though he wasn't sure she'd heard him, as she'd been too busy crying into her sister's shoulder. It was a service he'd volunteer for without hesitation. It would be an honor, not a duty. His entire being perked up at the thought.

"She just went to the hospital to find Amari."

Fish curled his lip. He did that whenever he thought about the doctor. He balled his fist whenever he saw the man touch Jules. Luckily, he hadn't seen them kiss in the year he'd been here or he would have lost it.

"She's going to propose a marriage of convenience to him."

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