Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
The bookseller down the block was telling me about his plans over the next bank holiday. The couple who owned the bistro I swore served the best potato leek I’d ever had in my life were thinking about adopting a dog. I nodded and hummed before flitting to the next group to say thank you and good-bye and assure them all I’d be back someday.
I wasn’t sure it was true, though. I might visit my mom again, but this bakery would be gone and Scott…probably would have moved on.
“We’re going to miss you.”
I spun on my heels and hit Becca’s elbow with a fairy wing, nearly knocking her wineglass from her hand.
I steadied her hand and grabbed a napkin from the counter. “Thank you. I’ll miss you too.”
She dabbed at her wrist, stuffing the napkin into the pocket of her blueberry print dress before meeting my gaze. “Have you told him?”
“Told him what?”
Becca’s pie-shaped earrings swayed when she cocked her head. “How you feel.”
I stared, unseeing, at the flap of awning visible through the shop window and nodded. “Yes.”
“Hmm. Good. He’s quite taken with you.”
I smiled, though I doubted it reached my eyes this time. “It’s mutual.”
“I know,” she said softly. “You know, I’ve always fancied him a bit. Scotty, that is. He’s charming in his own stoic way and a man who knows his way around a kitchen is a rare catch where I’m from. I thought we’d make a fine pair. I was wrong.”
Uh…what was happening here?
“I don’t understand.”
“Scott and I are friends first and always. He doesn’t feel those…feelings for me. Not the way he does for you, and that’s okay. I was a bit sad at first, but…” Becca inclined her chin toward Scott on the other side of the bakery. “I’ve never seen him this happy. Not at the moment, obviously. You’re still in the room, and he’s already missing you. He’s probably thinking nihilistic thoughts about you being on a plane this time tomorrow and that it would be selfish of him to tell you how he feels or—”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…don’t give up on him, Theo. He’s got a hard head, but he’s worth it. I know you’ll still get on your plane, and you’ll go on to have a magical life because honestly, you’re too lovely not to.” She flicked at one of my fairy wings playfully and added, “I just thought you should know you’ve made a difference. To all of us. Thank you. One day, I hope to meet a bloke like you who can bake like him.”
She hiked her thumb in Scott’s direction. I gave a half chuckle, then launched myself at her.
“Be careful. Those pie earrings might get caught on your wings,” Scott singsonged.
“Cheeky bastard,” she grumbled at Scott as she gently pushed out of my hold. “I’m off to find more wine and see about dessert. This is a bakery. We should have something sweet to offer, yeah?”
Becca was gone before either of us could reply. Just as well. I was still reeling from her speech and feeling overwhelmed that all these people had turned up to say good-bye and wish me well. It was almost too much to be close to him. I was in serious danger of bursting into tears.
Maybe it showed, ’cause Scott took over. He whistled to get everyone’s attention and announced that it was time to say one last good-bye.
That took another fifteen minutes. My eyes welled up a couple of times, but I kept it together.
I set the fairy wings and tiara on the counter next to a tray of fairy cakes, shrugged my coat on, and waved before stepping outside into the frigid February night.
Scott walked beside me, his face partially hidden by his scarf. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but I could feel the tension coming off him in tsunami-like waves.
We made our way down New Bond Street in silence, turning to walk along the riverside. I snapped a photo in my mind of the lights from Pulteney Bridge glowing on the water and the imposing abbey on the right. I knew the way to the station so well now. I knew the college was on the left next to the Catholic church with the imposing spire. I knew the sidewalks were impossibly narrow, and I knew that I did not want to say good-bye at the train station.
No way.
I stopped abruptly, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“What time is your flight?”
He knew this already, but I answered anyway. “One p.m. My mother wants to be at the airport three hours earlier. We’ll be leaving around nine o’clock.”
“Right. I remember.” Scott rubbed my shoulder and ran his fingers through my hair. “You forgot your wings.”
I swallowed hard as I met his gaze. “You keep them. They won’t fit in my suitcase anyway. I’d have to wear them on the plane and everyone would stare—or worse, ask questions, and you know how I feel about talking on planes. Or planes in general.”