Page 168 of With a Cherry On Top

“You sent him to work for mymother?” Amelie asks, turning to Ian.

“I-I had no idea, Amelie. She never said a word about you. I’m—I don’t?—”

The silence in the room descends like a heavy fog we can’t escape from. Every inch of me is frozen, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing down on me harder than I ever thought possible.

Amelie’s eyes lock onto mine, wide with shock and betrayal. “She’sthe woman? The one you’ve been so mysterious about?” she asks, her voice a whisper of disbelief. “And you knew who she was? Who her mom was?”

I can’t speak, the words too heavy in my mouth. “Yes. I-I figured it out. I was going to tell you, but...”

Amelie’s eyes tear away from mine as if she can’t bear to look at me any longer. “Oh my god.”

This is the end, I realize. The beginning of the end.

And even while my heart breaks in my chest, I feel Charlotte’s hand shaking in mine. She’s scared, hurt, probably disappointed. Trying to figure out what this means for her, for us. I told her Amelie couldn’t possibly know about her existence, yet here we are.

“T-there’s a lot I need to explain, and I will. But before then, I...” I tug Charlotte closer, then give her an encouraging smile. “I’d like you to meet your sister. Properly. She’s very excited to?—”

“I’m leaving,” Amelie says, voice flat, before turning on her heel.

Her footsteps are quick, echoing down the corridor like gunfire. A door creaks open then slams shut.

Silence.

I turn back to Charlotte; steady tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hand is still wrapped around mine, clinging hard enough to hurt.

I don’t understand. Amelie recognized Charlotte immediately—she must have seen pictures of her. She definitely knows she has a sister. And for some reason, she doesn’t care.

Beatrice didn’t lie.

“Why—” I face Ian. “Why has she never gotten in touch? Why—why did she never say anything about Charlotte? Why keep her a secret?”

“Let me see if I’m getting this right.Youexpectmeto explain myself?”

Charlotte, beside me, jerks backward, fingers sliding away from mine. “I-I have to...” She sobs. “I need to go.”

“Baby, wait,” I try, but she runs past Ian, and with a glance at him, I move too. “I should...” I point at the corridor, and he scoffs.

“Don’t let me stop younow.” His voice drops to an ominous tone. “I’ll be in touch.”

“It’s goingto be okay, I promise,” I say into the phone as I approach the back door of Daisy.

“No, it won’t,” Charlotte counters with a sad voice. “Were you in the same room as I was yesterday? Ian set this meeting up to fire you, Chef.”

And there’s nothing I can do to change that. I made my decision, and though the last thing I wanted was for Ian and Amelie to find out the way they did, this was going to happen regardless. It just happened in the worst way possible.

I’ve been repeating this like a mantra since last night, when I caught up with Charlotte outside of the restaurant.

She was hysterical, barely breathing between sobs, her hands shaking so hard she couldn’t even get her phone out of her pocket. I had to hold her, had to press my forehead to hers and murmur over and over that I was there, that she wasn’t alone.

At least Josie was kind enough to take Sadie to her parents and give us the house for the night. Charlotte barely slept, and I with her.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay, seriously,” she says. “I didn’t have big expectations, so...I’m good.”

That’s not true. She feels like she just got proof, once again, that she isn’t worth fighting for, and I can’t stand it.

I wish I could see her, but Beatrice has been home the whole day. Hopefully Ian won’t talk to her just yet, because the last thing Charlotte needs is more drama right now.

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