Page 172 of With a Cherry On Top

“And that might have been the biggest blessing of your life, because Beatrice...she’s not a good person, trust me.”

Amelie scoffs. “Really? The woman who abandoned her daughter isn’t a saint? You don’t say.”

“It’s more than that. She’s—” I struggle to find the right words. “She’s the kind of person who makes you believe you’renothing. That you’re worthless. That you’re only good for what she can take from you.”

She hesitates, her mask of anger faltering. I know for a fact she’s gotten rid of people like that in her life, and I’m not sure how much of Beatrice she’s seen, but she must know there’s truth behind what I’m saying.

“No,” she says, almost to herself. “No,” she repeats more firmly. “You’ve seen it with Sadie—you know what being left behind by your mother does to you. I can’t—” She breathes out as if willing herself not to cry. “I’ve worked hard to free myself of toxic people, and I’m not letting her destroy everything.”

“She’s not Beatrice, though. Charlotte is not toxic, Amelie. She’s?—”

“There’s nothing I can do to help her.” Her shoulders arch. “I’m sorry.”

Oh, come on. This is bullshit, and she’s better than that. At least, I think she is. “You’re theonlyone who can help her. You’re her sister.”

“Hersister?” Amelie straightens. “I don’t evenknowher. My family was my dad, who was a piece of shit but a piece of shit who stayed. And now he’s gone, so I made my own family. This man”—she gestures at Ian—“is my family. Heaven and Shane with their kids, Primrose and her family, and you—you were part of my family too.”

A sharp ache pierces through me at the past tense, but I don’t interrupt.

“Charlotte?” She crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Charlotte is a stranger. Someone who never once reached out, never even tried. And now she needs me because she has no one else?” Her lips curl, her voice dripping with resentment. “Well, I suggest she figures it out—just like I did.”

“Do you know what your mother does to her? She?—”

“I can’t help her.” Her chest rises and falls, her gaze stuck to the floor. “I can’t open that chapter again.”

Charlotte was right. This hurts more than getting fired. Even more than losing Amelie’s friendship.

“I guess we’re both disappointed, then,” I say, and without waiting for her answer, I walk out the door, then out of the restaurant.

CHAPTER 33

The Perfect Sundae

“Seriously, I’m not hungry,” Charlotte says as she joins me in the kitchen. She’s been dragging herself around since I told her about my meeting with Ian, even though it’s not her fault I got fired.

I take out a few bowls then open the fridge and grab heavy cream, whole milk, sugar, and vanilla extract, setting everything on the counter with a clink. “That’s okay. The point is not eating—it’s cooking.”

“Cooking?”

“Baking, I guess.” Scale, spoons, and spatulas are set on the counter too. “You know what’s the one thing I don’t do while cooking?”

“Based on the last few weeks...” She looks up, humming. “Exerting self-control?”

“Thinking,” I correct, pleased that she’s feeling better enough to joke. “I could use a break from that right now, and you could too.”

When I gesture at her to step closer, she drags herself to me. “I never asked how you got into it.”

“I started back in high school with Mom. When Logan started dating Josie. Mom knew I liked her, and she wanted to keep me busy. Keep me from thinking about it too much.”

Charlotte watches me closely. “Did it help?”

“Not at first, no. I was pissed off all the time, distracted.” I weigh our ingredients. “It showed. But then, one night, she made me knead dough for what felt like hours. And, I don’t know...something about the repetition, the way my hands moved through it—it calmed me down. I didn’t stop being angry, but I wasn’t up to my neck in it anymore.”

Charlotte runs her fingers over the counter, tracing an invisible pattern.

“After that, I kept going. It became...safe.” I glance at her. “A place where I didn’t have to think about anything but the next step.”

She’s quiet for a long moment before she nods, just once. “Okay. Teach me.”

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