Page 140 of Sweet Hate
I’d been tempted hundreds of times, but I couldn’t put myself through it again. The waiting, hoping, desperate to hear from him.
He was able to just shut me out and forget about me.
He says he’smine, but what guarantee do I have that he won’t disappear again?
I could never have treated him that way.
That’s why I made these damn rules to protect us both—OK,fine, mainly me—and despite trying my hardest to enforce them, I’m almost certain I’ve broken one, all while pushing him back and trying to stophimfrom breaking them.
We’ve done movie nights before—it was one of our things growing up. Even when we were hooking up back then, they were amazing, but I never felt like I did two weeks ago.
For the first time ever in our relationship, I felt more.
Too much.
I’ve always loved Axel. As my best friend.
Later on, as my best friend, who had the perfect joystick I could play with.
I didn’t feel like I’d blurred any lines with my feelings. Maybe because it was always temporary—I knew I wasleaving.
There’s two weeks left of our arrangement and neither of us has hinted at anything more since that night.
So this is technically also still temporary.
A wave of guilt runs through me at just how temporary this could be as I eye the white envelope peeking out of my open purse like a magnet.
I’ve carried that letter around with me for three days now, not entirely sure what to do about any of it.
They’ve offered me the role of head pâtissier back in London—the job that launched my dad’s whole career.His job.
He failed to mention that he was planning on quitting it to start presenting his own TV show.
You’dthinkthat’s something he might have mentioned to his only kid. Especially since he knew I planned to quit. I’d have had to move eventually, while dad worked there. I was already the second in command and had no intention of taking his job.
Deciding to run Gram’s bakery was a bit of a no brainer. Upending my life is nothing I’m not used to. At least this time it’s my choice, and for something that would just be mine.
And since coming back, I’ve realized that I don’t hate it here. Not anymore which just makes all this shit even harder.
And I can’t talk to anyone about it.
How do I choose?
Do I pick the big city I did in fact settle in and love, a hugely renowned position that would make multiple exclusive kitchens entirely mine?
I’d be following in my dad’s footsteps to elevate my reputation to that next level and open who knows how many other doors.
Or do I face my fears head-on and run my own bakery in this small coastal town, the place where Grams and all my friends are?
Plus, there’s Axel—Mr.I Am Fucking Yourshimself.
If he meant that, then what does that mean for him—for us?
I ran out of there because, for the first time ever, I felt something.
Something dangerous.
Deeper.
