Chapter 6: Cake Testing.
TAMARA
“So you are saying it wasn’t Noel who sent you these?” Maggie asked as she leaned over the kitchen counter, her face buried in the flowers, breathing them in like they were the rarest thing she had ever seen.
The bouquet sat proudly in the middle of the counter, stealing the room’s attention with its beauty.
I nodded, guilt pressing down on me. “I completely forgot he has an allergy, Maggie. I ousted myself. God, I’m so dumb.” The words came out broken, and in frustration I lowered my head and hit it lightly against the counter surface.
“It’s only your boyfriend that will have an allergy to flowers, Tee,” Maggie said, her voice full of disbelief. “Flowers! Who even is allergic to something so pretty?”
“Not now, Maggie.” I scolded, though my voice was weak, tired.
“Well then, if it wasn’t him, who else could it be?” she asked, her finger trailing along the soft petals, her eyes fixed on the bouquet instead of on me.
Her question churned in my stomach. My teeth dug into my lip as I battled with myself. I had never hidden anything from my sister before, but this was too heavy. Too dark. Maggie had always sworn she would stab Isaiah where the sun doesn’t shine if he ever came back from the dead.
Turned out he very well rose from the dead.
At my prolonged silence, Maggie turned from the flowers to look at me properly, a frown etching lines across her forehead.
“Hmm? You truly have an admirer?” she asked, dragging a stool forward and sitting right in front of me, her eyes narrowed.
“Ittasiah…” The words slipped from my lips.
“Come again?”
I sighed deeply, picking at the edge of my nail bed, suddenly nervous to say it out loud. “It’s Isaiah,” I whispered.
Maggie froze. Her fingers, which had been lazily playing with the flowers, stilled in mid-air. For a few seconds, she just sat there, unmoving, letting my words hang between us. Then suddenly she burst out laughing.
I stared at her, confused. Maybe she had lost her mind. Maybe she was reacting in a different way to the news. She bent over, clutching her belly, laughing so hard her voice echoed around the kitchen.
“It’s not funny, Mag,” I said, frowning.
“Oh, it is,” she gasped between fits of laughter.
“It’s so funny I have to cry. God, I haven’t laughed this hard in months.”
I folded my arms, sarcasm dripping from me. “I’m so glad you find my predicament funny, Mags. Truly. So joyous.”
She finally wiped her eyes, still smiling as she asked, “Are you really expecting me to believe that he-who-shall-not-be-named is back from the dead?”
I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have to. The look on my face told her everything.
“What!” she screamed, jumping from her seat so fast the stool screeched harshly against the floor.
I flinched, covering my ears. “Calm your horse, Mag pozhaluysta,” I warned, slipping into our native tongue.
“How on earth are you even calm right now? Isaiah is back? Alive? Not dead?” she shouted again, her voice climbing.
I rubbed my temple dryly. “I’m pretty sure alive and not dead mean the same thing, sestrёнка.”
Maggie slowly sank back into her seat, her face twisted in a mixture of shock and growing anger. Her eyes drilled into me. “When did you find out?” she asked quietly, her voice sharp, as if daring me to lie. She wanted to see me break. But I had already broken a month ago. I had no intention of ever crying over that bastard again.
“The day I had dinner with Noel’s family,” I said flatly. “He is Noel’s stepbrother.”
Maggie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping slightly. “And the plot thickens. Blin!” She slapped the counter in disbelief. “So he sent you flowers? Are you even sure it was him?”
I sighed, leaning back on the chair with all the weight of the world on my chest. “Of course it’s him, Mags. Who else knows my exact kind of flowers? Who else has the time to send them to me?”
“Certainly not your boyfriend, that’s for sure.”
“Mags!”
“Okay, okay. Wrong timing.” She lifted her hands in surrender, smirking slightly. I rolled my eyes, heat burning my cheeks.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked softly after a pause, her eyes scanning my face like she was searching for answers I didn’t have.
I glanced at the bouquet again. It looked so beautiful sitting there, its petals open wide like they were mocking me, taunting me with memories I didn’t want to feel. My teeth dug into my lower lip as I thought about what I had to do. The decision settled in my belly like something sour.
“I can’t keep it,” I said finally, my voice low, my heart tearing with every word.
Maggie’s eyes moved back to the flowers too, her face heavy with emotion. “Yeah. You shouldn’t.”
I turned sharply to her. “What?” Not expecting her to agree with me.
She shrugged, her lips tight. “You shouldn’t keep them. You are about to get married to someone else. And not just anyone, Tamara—his stepbrother. You shouldn’t receive flowers from Isaiah, no matter how pretty they are. Even though… Chyort! These are the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Not helping, Mags.” I sighed.
“I know, I know.” She frowned deeply, anger suddenly clouding her features. “Isaiah is such a dick, honestly. How dare he do this?” Her voice trembled, sharp with frustration. She looked ready to fight, and my heart sank. I had been so focused on my pain, I had never considered hers. Back then, Isaiah and Maggie had been close, as close as siblings. It was through her that Shawn and Isaiah even became friends.
I hadn’t thought about what it must feel like for her too, to have him back.
The buzz of my phone cut through the room, vibrating against the counter. I glanced at it and saw Noel’s name flash across the screen.
Instantly my chest tightened. I almost rolled my eyes. I was still upset with him for the way he had spoken to me earlier at work. And maybe, just maybe, it stung more now because another man, one who once treated me like an egg, fragile and precious, was suddenly back.
I shook the thought off quickly. That was ridiculous.
I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear, saying nothing, waiting for him to speak first.
“Hi, Sunflower.” Usually, that name would have brought a blush to my face. But today it only made me feel tired.
“I just wanted to tell you I’ll be late for the cake testing today,” he said. “I have some deals I want to close, but I’ll join you later.”
His words blurred in my ears, turning into nonsense. Cake testing? What was he talking about—
Then it hit me. I gasped, leaping from my chair so quickly it scraped loudly against the floor.
Blin! I completely forgot about the cake testing.
“Hello? Tee? Are you there?” Noel’s voice came through the line, confused.
“Huh? Yes—yes. That’ll be fine. I’ll just start without you,” I said quickly, already rushing toward my room, yanking open my wardrobe. My heart raced. I was thirty minutes late and hadn’t even realized it. I could feel Maggie’s eyes on me, sharp and suspicious, but I ignored her completely.
What was wrong with me lately?
“Okay. I hope you aren’t upset?” Noel asked, his voice softer, almost guilty.
“It’s fine, Noel. It isn’t the first time anyway.”
The moment the words left my mouth I hissed quietly to myself. Why had I said that? God I was being such a bitch today.
Before he could say anything more, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the bed.
“You forgot your cake testing appointment?”
Maggie’s voice came from behind me, laced with amusement. She leaned on my doorframe, her tone sharp with mockery.
I rolled my eyes, pretending not to hear as I pulled through my wardrobe, hangers screeching against the rod. I didn’t have the patience for her teasing, not today.
“That says a lot of things about you, Tee,” she went on, her grin audible even without looking at her. “I could make a whole list if you want—”
“I’ve just been stressed, Mag. That’s all it’s saying, nothing else.” My words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t take them back.
Maggie smirked, throwing her hands up as if she’d been defeated. She plopped down on my bed, bouncing on the mattress, and stretched herself across it without a care.
“If you say so,” she murmured lazily. Then, with a tilt of her head, she added, “So what’s the deal with Isaiah having a stepbrother? I thought his father never remarried.”
The sound of his name still stung, like tasting something bitter that my tongue refused to forget. My hands stilled against the row of dresses, and just like that, the air in the room felt heavier. Ten years had passed, yet my chest still froze at the mere mention of him.
I forced my shoulders to rise and fall, giving her a small shrug as though the thought hadn’t been haunting me all month.
“I have no idea, Mags,” I settled on a deep satin blue dress that was flared from the waist and brushed my knees. Noel would just have to deal with the fact that I was showing my legs today.
“It’s not like we interacted that night,” I added, tossing the dress onto the bed.
Maggie hummed thoughtfully, propping herself up on her elbows. “But did you guys talk at all? Is he still handsome?”
Her curiosity scraped against my already fragile nerves. I wanted to snap, but I reminded myself she had once been his friend too. She had every reason to wonder, even if it made my heart ache to remember.
“We didn’t talk,” I said, forcing the lie with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. What I didn’t add was that I had talked to him, and afterward, I had unraveled in ways I hadn’t in years. But Maggie didn’t need to know that. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“And yes,” I admitted reluctantly, “he’s still handsome. People don’t lose their looks just because they disappear.” I adjusted the strap of my purse, as if the casual movement could disguise the storm inside me. The truth was, I hadn’t been able to get how he looked out of my head. Isaiah had always been too beautiful for his own good. His looks had carried him straight into a modeling career at nineteen, earning his first million before he was even a man. He was popular with famous modeling agencies. That was why every new outlet carried the news of his supposed death.
Back then, when we went out together, I had felt small beside him. The way people stared, it was as if his beauty belonged to everyone but me.
But seeing him now, after ten years… it was different. He was still beautiful, but it had sharpened, hardened, aged into something raw and masculine. He wasn’t just attractive anymore; he was devastating. And that devastation stirred something in me I didn’t want to name, warmth in my belly, an ache in my chest.
My phone rang again, pulling me out of thoughts I had no business entertaining. Expecting Noel, I almost ignored it, but the caller ID showed the bakery instead. I answered quickly.
“Hi, sorry I’m late. I’ll be there soon—”
“You can take your time, miss,” the attendant chirped on the other end. “Your husband is already here.”
I froze mid-step.
“My husband?” The word slipped from my lips before I could stop it. Confusion tangled in my chest. Noel had said he would be late.
“Yes, ma’am. I must confess, he looks even more dashing in person. You are very lucky to be in the arms of such a beautiful man.” Her accent was heavy, but her excitement bled through.
Her gushing tone made my stomach twist. Dashing? Beautiful? She couldn’t mean Noel. Noel was handsome in a clean, composed way, but never overwhelming, never commanding. Unlike…
My heart skipped a painful beat.
“Can you please put my husband on the phone?” I asked, my voice barely steady. My pulse throbbed in my ears as I waited.
There was a shuffle, a pause, then the sound of breath crackling across the line.
“Hello.”
My heart slammed against my ribcage, loud enough to drown out my own thoughts. “Noel? Are you—are you already there?” I asked, clutching my chest with one hand as if that could calm the wild hammering.
The silence stretched. One beat. Two. Three. And then—
“I’m not in the habit of enjoying it when you call me another man’s name, church girl."
Isaiah.