Page 146 of Sweet Hate
“Oh my God, Axel. Are you serious right now? This is incredible!”
I turn to look up at his face, blurry with tears I hadn’t realized were coming.
I was expecting new appliances, but I thought he’d just recreate what was here before. The little touches he’s added for me have my heart tripping. He’s even got another bunch of pink roses sitting on the island.
Brushing his thumb under my eye to swipe away a tear that slipped out, his warm, callused hands cradle my face.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, but his voice comes out a little husky, a myriad of emotions running across his face that he isn’t bothering to hide. I see his hope and affection. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before turning me in his arms and leading me to the door.
“There’s more.”
It’s only then that I notice the new white door with a porthole window separating the kitchen from the front of the bakery, but the window is covered in some sort of paper. The nerves have completely vanished, and excitement is pulsing through my veins. I can’t wait to see everything else this amazingly thoughtful man has done.
His hand splays across my tummy, pulling me flush to him for a second so he can nuzzle my neck and plant a kiss there.
“Go ahead, Sprinks. I’ll be right behind you.”
I fly forward and push open the door, and then my jaw drops. I freeze, awestruck. My hands cover my mouth as I walk in, totally silent as I take in every new detail.
Gone are the beige walls, drab counters, and mismatched tearoom vibe furniture.
Axel has literally created my dream bakery, plucked straight off my Pinterest board.
Pastel pink and white candy stripe wallpaper lines the walls above white paneling. The same glittery white floor tiles run through from the back.
The countertops are white glitter quartz, with shiny glass and chrome modern cake displays running along both sides.
Behind the counter, he’s added arched shelving inset in pink, perfect to display jars of sweet treats.
The same wallpaper runs along the front of the island where the register is, with soft underlighting flowing throughout.
The booths now feature glittering white tables with pink and white linoleum seats.
He’s even found a retro pink jukebox, he set up by the door alongside a pink gumball machine.
Paper still covers the windows but I still spot the pink and white stripe blinds that match the accent walls. It’s then that I notice the matching bakery boxes stacked off to the side of the counter alongside a pastel pink espresso machine.
He has thought of every last detail.
Tears stream down my face as I keep circling on the spot, taking in something new with every pass while Axel leans in the doorway watching me.
“Do you like it, Sprinks?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.
I spin to face him, my legs shaking and my head so dizzy, I drop my ass to the floor.
Axel is crouched in front of me in a millisecond, cradling my face in his hands again.
“Baby? You OK?” His anxious eyes roam my face as he swipes away my tears with his thumbs and brushes my hair back off my face.
A nod is all I can manage as I try to find the words to tell him just how much I love it.
When we were kids, I used to tell him I wanted to open a bakery just like Grams’, but that mine would be pink and white and have all these things.
He remembered everything, right down to the freakin’ gumball machine.
I’m so overcome with emotion, I just lunge at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, knocking him back on his ass where I straddle him.
“How did you remember all of this?” I whisper against his lips.
