Always the Baker

Chapter 12

12

B rax

I paced back and forth across the penthouse living room. My fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against my thigh. I’d decided to ignore everything she’d said on the sidewalk earlier, until we made it back to my place. I didn’t want anyone hearing what she might have to say, and I didn’t want to make a scene either.

I glanced over at her, wondering just how many lies she’d told me. Billie sat on the edge of the leather sofa. Her eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at me as she rocked side to side. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a guitar pick.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Hopkins?” I finally asked. “Are you going to explain all of that to me?”

Her slim shoulders hunched. “Yes, Brax. I just, well, I need to think for a second.”

My frustration was building. Here I was thinking she, we, were so real… and now I find out it was all a lie. “About what? About how you’ve lied to me? About how you’ve made up entire scenarios without batting an eyelash? Or about how you can lie again to cover this shit up?”

Billie’s lower lip trembled, and I fought the urge to go to her. I needed answers first.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” she whispered. “I didn’t think this would happen.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

She took a shaky breath, twisting her hands in her lap. “The things I told you about me, about my life, I never thought you’d actually be interested in me enough to ever find out the truth. I was afraid...”

“Afraid of what?” I pressed, my heart pounding.

Billie finally looked up at me. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Afraid you wouldn’t want me if you knew the truth.”

I sank down onto the coffee table across from her, my legs suddenly weak. “Sweetheart, whatever it is, just tell me. Please.”

She nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Okay. Well, like I said earlier, I’m not who you think I am. I’m not…” Billie’s voice trembled as she spoke. “When you came and sat down beside me, I’d just arrived in the city. I wanted a weekend away, a little bit of excitement, you know? It was only supposed to be a couple of days, that was it. Then you sat down and changed everything.”

I blinked, trying to process her words.

“I work at my parents’ printing and graphic design company in a tiny town you’ve probably never heard of,” she continued. Her words tumbled out faster now. “Jasper Lane. I’d saved up for months to do something… wild. I hadn’t even decided what yet, until I decided I’d come to the city. I’ve never been far from home alone and Mom kept piling work on me, and more work, until, well, I guess I ran away.

“Not to mention the fact that my ex broke up with me because I wasn’t as successful as he wanted me to be. He said I should have been more advanced than I am, which is true, but I’ve devoted my time and energy to my family and our business. It wasn’t my intention to not be further along in life. To not be a well-known artist or sought after baker. Then his fucking fiancée asked me to bake their wedding cake six months after we broke up.” She scoffed and shook her head as it hung. “And when you approached me, you made me feel important. You made me feel like I mattered. You made me feel wanted. You gave me a chance to be the version of myself I always wanted to be.”

My mind reeled. All those stories about her life in the city, her job, her friends, they’d all been lies. I stood up abruptly.

“So, everything you told me about your life here, it was all made up?”

“Not really. I do paint and bake, just… not the way I made it seem. There’s no mural. I don’t live here. Everything else was true. You’re you, and I didn’t want you to think I was a nobody.”

I paced the room, trying to make sense of it all. The girl I’d fallen for, the one who’d matched my energy and shared my dreams… had she even been real?

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning?”

Billie stood up, reaching for me, but I stepped back. “I was scared. You’re this amazing man, and I’m just little ol’ me. A small town girl with big dreams and not much else.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “So, you thought lying was the answer? Damn it, Billie. I trusted you.”

It looked like she physically shrunk at the sound of my words as tears poured. The battle to stand on how I felt versus sweeping it under the rug to avoid her pain was real.

“I know. I messed up. I just... I didn’t want to lose you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Yet you lied and made it impossible for me to want to be with you.”

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t reconcile the Billie I thought I knew with this stranger standing in front of me. The main thing that made me feel confident in pursuing her was the realness. The truth that seemed to pour from her. The normality of her life. How we bonded over art and our dreams. All that had been stripped away. I paced the penthouse living room, running my fingers down my face. Billie stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, looking small and vulnerable.

“Brax, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was barely over a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you. I just, I was afraid you wouldn’t want me if you knew the truth.”

I turned to face her, my chest tight. “You really think that little of me? That I’d reject you because you’re from a small town? Because you aren’t famous or from the city? Because you’re not a well-known artist?”

Her eyes met mine, and they were filled with regret. “It’s not just that. You’re this incredible singer, living this amazing life, and I’m just a graphic artist who paints in her spare time. I felt so out of my league. Then I had the trauma of my ex. I kept thinking about what he said the day we broke up. Those insecurities. I didn’t want a repeat of that with you.”

I shook my head. “That’s not fair, Hopkins. To me or to yourself. I thought we had something real here. I opened up to you, shared parts of myself I don’t show anyone else.”

“We did have something real!” Billie insisted, taking a step toward me. “Everything between us was genuine. I just embellished my background a bit.”

“A bit? You created a whole fake life!”

Billie recoiled, and I immediately felt guilty. But the hurt was still there, raw and pulsing.

“I know, and I hate myself for it. But please believe me when I say that the girl you got to know, that’s the real me. My feelings for you, our connection, that’s all true.”

I wanted to believe her, but the trust between us had been shattered, and I didn’t know how to put it back together.

The weight of her confession settled on my shoulders. “I need some time, sweetheart. This is a lot to process.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

I turned away, walking toward the opposite side of the windows. The city was sprawled out before me in a sea of lights that suddenly felt cold and distant. I heard Billie’s soft footsteps behind me but didn’t turn around.

“Brax?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I think, um, I think it’s best if I go.”

My chest tightened at her words, but I couldn’t bring myself to argue.

“Maybe that’s for the best.” I hated how detached my voice sounded.

“Right.” I could hear the heartbreak in her voice. “I’ll just grab my things.”

I kept my back to her. My forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the window. Part of me wanted to turn around, to tell her to stay, to work this out. But the other part, the part that felt betrayed and foolish, kept me rooted to the spot.

I stood there for a moment, frozen, before the reality of the situation hit me. Billie was leaving. Really leaving. My feet finally unstuck from the floor, and I moved toward the bedroom, drawn by a mix of morbid curiosity and lingering hurt.

The sight of Billie packing her things was like a sucker punch. She moved around the room, gathering up the few belongings she’d brought with her as tears streamed silently down her face. Each item she tucked into her bag felt like another nail in the coffin of our unofficial relationship.

“You don’t have to go right this second.” My voice was gruff—as if my mind hated the plea my heart gave. “It’s late. You could stay the night and leave in the morning.”

Billie paused with a T-shirt clutched in her hands.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said softly, not meeting my eyes. “I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Part of me wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I wanted her to stay. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I stood there silently. My emotions were a tangled fucking mess.

“I really am sorry, pooh,” Billie said, zipping up her bag. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I never meant for this to happen.”

I nodded but couldn’t speak. As she shouldered her bag and walked past me, I caught a whiff of her perfume… The scent I’d grown to associate with mornings in bed and late-nights tangled up in her. It made my chest ache.

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

Billie turned with watery eyes. “You too, pooh. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And then she was gone. The door closed behind her with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sudden silence of my penthouse. I stood there, staring at the door, feeling like I’d just let something so very precious slip through my fingers.