Page 17 of Seal the Deal

I glance at the counter where a batch is cooling. “Almost done…” My eyes narrow suspiciously as I try to figure out her motives. “Why?”

"Because I needbribes,girl! I’ve got a marketing meeting with the Storm guys soon, and I need to convince them to get involved in a video idea. Think you could spare some for the cause?”

I smile, knowing full well that Zoe has been parading my baking aroundsince I arrived. Within the first few days of my arrival, I’d baked her a thank-you-for-helping-me-find-a-house cake, some thanks-for-staying-up-late-to-Facetime-me-from-the-other-side-of-the-world cookies and a please-convince-me-I’ve-made-the-right-decision apple pie.

“Alright, fine. How many do you need?”

“Enough to make them fall in love with me—and by extension, you.”

I laugh, slicing the first batch into neat squares. “Consider it done. Just swing by and grab them.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Only every time I bake you something,” I retort. “But I don’t mind. Baking’s my happy place.”

“Yeah, you’re practically a sugar fairy,” she says with a mock sigh. “You should seriously consider doing something with that talent of yours, Charlie. I’m talking bakery, cookbook, the whole shebang.”

I chuckle, shaking my head as I lean against the counter. “Maybe in another life. Right now, I’ve got my hands full with the kids and this new job.”

There’s a part of me that’s secretly pleased at the idea. The truth is, if I wasn’t a marketer, I’d probably be a pastry chef, spending my days creating sugary masterpieces that make people smile. There’s a certain magic in it, transforming simple ingredients into something beautiful, something that brings people together.

“Hey, have you heard from Jake since the game?” Zoe’s voice is casual, but I sense the curiosity.

I hesitate, images of Jake at the game flashing in my mind. His intense gaze, the warmth in his smile. It felt like an echo from years ago, stirring up feelings I haven’t been able to shake since.

“No, haven’t heard from him,” I say lightly, hoping it sounds casual. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Zoe replies, too innocently. “You two just seemed to click.”

I laugh, but it’s forced. “It was one summer, Zoe. We were just kids.”

“Kids with some serious chemistry,” she says.

I brush her off, but my thoughts linger on Jake. That entire summer had been such a whirlwind, but I’d loved every single minuteof it. I’d befriended some of the other team leaders too, but Jake and I just seemed to get each other. We shared something, a kind of easy connection I haven’t found since. But life moved on, and we grew apart.

When the news hit about his draft a couple months later, I felt so proud of him for living his dream. We emailed briefly to start with, but the demands of his career coupled by time differences and him forgoing social media back then meant our connection just fizzled out.

Before I can reply, Meadow bounds into the kitchen with a crayon drawing clutched in her hands. “Mama, look! I drew us in snow!”

“It’s beautiful, honey bee,” I say, crouching down to admire her art, feeling a surge of gratitude that I get to be here with her. I may have left a lot behind, but what matters most came with me.

Zoe chuckles through the speaker. “Alright, Supermom, I’ll let you get back to it. See you soon!”

After hanging up, I finish packing the brownies, trying to resist the urge to snag a corner piece. I know they’re delicious—years of perfecting this recipe has made sure of that. Baking has always been my go-to, a stress reliever, a ritual that reminds me who I am outside of all the noise. And these brownies in particular have always been a comfort. A little bit of sweetness amidst the bitterness.

Memories of Alex surface, unbidden. I try to push them away, but it’s hard. Hard to forget how he dismissed moments like these as trivial, how he never truly saw the joy these little rituals brought me or the kids.

I take a breath, nudging away the thought of everything that led us here. I want Noah and Meadow to grow up feeling valued, in a home where love is easy to give and receive.

Alex never understood that. The cracks were always there, and in the end they shattered. I thought Alex was the love of my life, but over time it became painfully clear that I wasn’t his, and neither were the kids.

My heart cracked too many times watching Noah’s sweet face mask his own disappointment when Alex didn’t show, like he needed to remain unaffected by his father’s disinterest and soldier on. It was those small hurts, stacking up year after year, that finally gave me the strength to walk away.

Meadow would rain adoration down on him like he was a damn king. I would have thought being on the receiving end of that kind of pure, unconditional love would bring a man to his knees. But not Alex. He never indulged her, never sat for five minutes to play. Never batted an eyelid at the way she’d cling to his leg when he left in the morning. It broke something inside me to see her try so hard for so little in return.

I spent years trying to make it work, trying to be enough for him despite the constant berating and blame. Spent years hoping he’d notice us, only to realize he’d been doling out all that love to flings on his business trips.

Leaving him was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, but I did it for us. We deserve better—deserve to be seen, loved, chosen. My kids deserve to grow up in a home where they’re valued, where love isn’t just an afterthought. And I deserve to be with someone who sees me, who wants to be here, who isn’t going to put everything else before me.

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