Always the Baker

Chapter 13

13

B illie

The Next Morning

I dragged myself into the office. My tote bag felt like it weighed a ton. The familiar flicker of fluorescent lights and clacking keyboards filled the air, but it all felt hollow.

Empty.

“Morning, Billie!” Mom was disgustingly excited for me to be back. “You finally remembered where you live and work?”

I plastered on a smile. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Mom. I just needed a break, or I would have lost my mind.”

My mother’s only response was to hum and give me a silent look that said, ‘I feel like you already have’. I shuffled to my desk, dumping my bag and slumping into my chair. My computer screen blinked to life, filled with pending projects and urgent emails. I stared at it blankly. It was too much… too overwhelming.

“Baby girl.” My father rolled his chair over. “You alright, honey?”

I shrugged. “Just tired, I guess.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Well, nothing a little caffeine can’t fix. Want me to grab you a coffee?”

“No thanks,” I mumbled, turning back to my screen. I couldn’t imagine how I looked or sounded, but my heart was truly hurting, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

As I halfheartedly clicked through emails, my mind wandered. Brax’s face kept popping into my head. His crooked smile, those beautiful brown eyes. I shook my head, trying to focus.

Mom came in with a smile on her face that looked brittle. Who knew how long it would take for things to feel and be normal, though she was trying to act like they already were. I expected a million questions about where I’d been, but they hadn’t come yet. It looked like it was eating her alive not to question me… but I was grateful for the restraint. “How’s my baby girl? Don’t forget, we’re having dinner tonight.”

I groaned internally. The last thing I wanted was to plaster on a happy face for my parents all night, but I knew I couldn’t bail. They’d only worry more. I felt like I was right back in the mental state I was in after the breakup with Ian. This version of me felt foreign after spending time with Brax. I knew, to him, it all felt fake… but that… that was real.

“You got plans tonight?” Daddy asked, still hovering nearby.

“Dinner with you and Mom.” I sighed and massaged my temples.

He grinned. “Ah, time for a home cooked meal and family time. It’ll be fun.”

I forced a chuckle. “Yeah, real exciting stuff.”

As the day dragged on, I went through the motions. Design mockups, prepping pickups, shipping packages, client calls and meetings. But my heart wasn’t in it. Every song that came on my playlist reminded me of Brax. Every glance at social media made me wonder what he was up to.

By the time I pulled up to my parents’ house that evening, I was emotionally drained. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the onslaught of family cheer. This time, I didn’t have it in me to joke and act like I was okay because I was not. I missed my man, and he wasn’t officially my man. We’d claimed each other the first time we made love, but obviously that wasn’t true. Not with how easily he gave me up.

Yeah, I was at that point in my grief where I was trying to find any reason I could to blame him… but he wasn’t to blame. I was. If only I would have been honest and not allowed insecurity to lead me, none of this would have happened.

Mom flung open the door before I even knocked.

“There’s my girl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. “We’ve missed you!”

I managed a weak smile. “Missed you too, Mom.”

Dad appeared behind her. “Hey, honey. How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know. Living the dream.”

As we settled around the dinner table, I wished I was back in the city at a food truck with Brax. That was never going to happen again, though. I had to fight back tears and look away from my parents as they chatted away. Mom kept piling food on my plate, insisting I looked too thin, which didn’t make sense because I’d actually gained weight. She had to be saying that just because she hadn’t fed me in a few days.

I nodded and smiled in all the right places as the night wore on, but inside, I felt like I was suffocating. How could I tell them about Brax? About the whirlwind romance and crushing heartbreak? They’d never understand.

“Bill?” Mom’s voice snapped me back to reality. “You’ve barely touched your food. Are you feeling alright?”

I blinked, realizing I’d been pushing mashed potatoes around my plate for the last ten minutes. “Yeah, sorry. Just a lot on my mind with work and stuff.”

Daddy reached over, squeezing my hand. “You work too hard, honey. Maybe you need a real vacation. I told your mother to stop taking on all these projects… that she was piling too much on you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat at his understanding. “Thanks, Dad. But I’m okay, really. Just a little stressed.”

As the conversation moved on, I retreated back into my thoughts. Brax’s laugh echoed in my mind, along with the memory of his fingers intertwined with mine. The way his eyes would light up when he saw me. I blinked back tears, determined not to let my family see how broken I really was.

I was barely settled on the couch when my phone buzzed. Ember’s name flashed on the screen, and I sighed. She’d been relentless today.

“Hey, Em,” I answered, kicking off my shoes.

“Billie! Girl, you need to call him,” Ember insisted, cutting straight to the chase.

I flopped onto the couch, running a hand through my braids. “I can’t, Ember. You don’t understand.”

“What I understand is you’re both miserable. Just reach out and explain…”

“You don’t know how he feels. And I did, so what else is there to explain? I apologized for lying about who I was. It didn’t change a thing. Sorry I’m just a small town nobody, and that made me feel insecure. It’s a me problem, not a you problem, but he still didn’t try to stop me when I left. Well maybe a little, but I didn’t want his pity. It felt just like Ian telling me I didn’t have to leave right away but he still wanted us to be over.”

“Billie…” I heard the heaviness in her sigh, and it tore at my heart. She was frustrated with me, but she didn’t understand.

“No, Em. I screwed up. He deserves better than me.”

As if on cue, my phone pinged with a news alert. Since I was obsessed with Brax before my time in Rose Valley Hills, any time he was mentioned in a news article, I got the notification instantly. I put her on speaker and opened the link. My heart sank as I read the headline.

“Singing Sensation Brax Adams in Bar Brawl,” I almost whispered.

“What?” Ember exclaimed. “Billie, what’s going on?”

I skimmed the article, and each word was like a knife to my chest. “He got into a fight at some celebrity hotspot in Miami. It says he was drunk, belligerent…”

“That doesn’t sound like Brax. Not that I know him personally, but he hasn’t gotten into a fight since he became famous. Other than those grainy videos on YouTube of him fighting back in the day… this doesn’t match his grown man character at all.”

“No.” I agreed, tears welling up. “It doesn’t.”

I scrolled through pictures and more articles, all detailing the brawl he’d been involved in. There was a video of the fight on Instagram and Jesus… he definitely took his frustration out on the stranger who never stood a chance against him. None of it made sense. Why was he getting drunk and fighting with people just because of me? Or was it something else that had him in a funk?

I touched the screen where his scowling face glared back at me. “What are you doing, pooh?”

Ember’s voice was gentle when she said, “He’s hurting too. Maybe if you just…”

“I can’t,” I cut her off, wiping away a tear. “I’m the reason he’s like this. How could he ever forgive me?”

Before she could respond, I told her I had to go. Usually I could count on her to cheer me up, but there was nothing she could say to make me feel better this time. As I hung up, I curled into a ball on the couch. Brax’s troubled face burned into my mind. I’d done this to him. And now, I had no idea how to fix it.

I scrolled mindlessly through my Instagram feed, trying to distract myself from the gnawing guilt. Suddenly, a username caught my eye.

“GuitarHero96.” My heart skipped a beat. Brax .

“No way,” I muttered, tapping on the profile. It was private, with no posts visible, but the bio simply read, Music is my escape . It also had the hashtag #MemphisMane. Classic Brax.

I bit my lip, hesitating for a moment before hitting Follow. Almost instantly, a notification popped up. GuitarHero96 started following you . Only seconds passed before he was liking my posts. Was he missing me?

I was about to close the app when my mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Billie, honey? Can you come here for a sec?”

Sighing, I dragged myself off the couch and trudged to the kitchen. Mom was standing at the counter, mixing a bowl of something that smelled suspiciously like her famous ‘cheer up’ brownies.

“Hey.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I thought we could use a treat.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled, leaning against the counter.

She put down the spoon and turned to face me. Her brows were furrowed with concern. “Billie, what’s going on? You’ve been moping around all day. This isn’t like you.”

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not buying it. “And does this ‘work stuff’ have anything to do with that handsome boy you met in the city?”

My head snapped up. “How did you know about him?”

“Oh, honey. I’m not that old.” She laughed and patted my cheek. “I saw him post you online. Your cousins asked me a million questions about a man you never mentioned.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “It’s complicated.”

“Love usually is. But that doesn’t mean you should give up on it… If it could be love.”

“I really screwed up. He probably hates me now.”

Mom wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Do you know for sure?”

I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “No, but what if…”

“No what ifs,” she interrupted, and her tone was firm but gentle. “You need to follow your heart, Bill. Take a chance. Reach out to him.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Mom cupped my face in her hands. Her eyes were serious. “Billie Hopkins, you are the bravest, most stubborn girl I know. If anyone can fix this, it’s you. Don’t let fear hold you back from something that could be amazing.”

I nodded slowly. A tiny spark of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Two Days Later

I stood back, paintbrush in hand, surveying the wall before me. The mural was coming to life, stroke by stroke. It was a kaleidoscope of colors. The images were taken from my memory of The Hills… A mural I’d once described to a man that no longer wanted anything to do with me.

“What are you painting there, Billie?” Old Man Wallace shuffled by, eyeing my work curiously.

I laughed, dabbing a bit of blue onto the wall. “Oh, you know. Just sprucing up the place.”

“Looks like more than that to me.” He chuckled, squinting at the half-finished mural of hope I hadn’t realized I’d one day bring to life when I’d lied to Brax about it. “Ain’t that something. Why do the kids have paintbrushes for wings?”

I smiled.

“To help them paint all the colors in the sky,” I mumbled, focusing intently on blending the colors.

As Mr. Wallace strolled away, I let out a sigh. This mural was supposed to help me process everything, but all it did was remind me of how much I missed Brax. I glanced at my phone, noting the time. His interview was about to start.

Wiping my hands on my already paint-stained jeans, I plopped down on the sidewalk and pulled up the livestream. There he was, looking devilishly handsome in a black T-shirt that showed off his tattoos. My heart did a little flip. I don’t think I’d ever seen him in a color other than black or white, and he almost always had on black.

“So, Brax.” The interviewer leaned in. “Word on the street is you met someone special recently. Care to dish?”

Brax’s face tightened, almost imperceptibly. If I hadn’t spent those magical days with him, I might not have noticed. But I did, and my stomach clenched.

“Yeah, I thought I had. Turns out it was all a lie.”

My heart plunged. The interviewer’s eyebrows shot up, clearly thrilled at this juicy tidbit.

“Oh? Do tell!”

Brax ran a hand over his beard… A gesture I recognized as a sign of frustration. “Not much to tell. Met a girl, thought she was different. Turned out to be just another person I couldn’t trust.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. Is that what he really thought?

“I moved too fast,” Brax continued, his words cutting me to the core. “Should’ve known better than to trust someone I barely knew. Still, I miss her.”

I turned off the stream, unable to watch anymore. My gaze drifted to the mural, to Brax’s half-finished face staring back at me from one of the fields I’d painted on the wall. With a choked sob, I picked up my brush and slathered black paint over it, obliterating his features in one angry stroke.

What had I done?

I drove myself back to my parents’ house and collapsed onto the couch. My phone clattered against the floor. Brax’s words echoed in my head, each one a dagger to my heart. I buried my face in my hands, willing the tears not to fall.

“God, I’m such an idiot.”

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it hesitantly. It was Ember.

Em: Did you see the interview?

I typed back a quick yes before tossing my phone aside. I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to relive the pain in Brax’s eyes.

As I sat there, wallowing in my misery, a thought struck me. Brax said he missed me. Despite everything, despite knowing I’d lied to him, he still missed me. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

“He misses me,” I whispered as a glimmer of hope ignited in my chest.

I jumped up, suddenly energized. I had to do something, had to make this right. Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed a pen and paper.

“Dear Brax,” I wrote as my hand shook slightly. “I know you probably hate me right now, but please, give me another chance to explain…”

The words flowed out of me, raw and honest. I poured my heart onto the page, explaining my insecurities, my fears, and most importantly, how real my feelings for him were.

As I sealed the envelope, I took a deep breath.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, heading out to mail the letter before I lost my nerve.

I stood in front of the mailbox with the letter clutched tightly in my hand. My heart was racing faster than a squirrel on caffeine.

Come on, Billie.

Dropping this letter in felt like I was offering up a piece of my soul to the postal gods. What if Brax never got it? What if his doorman intercepted it, tossing it in the trash along with the hundreds of fan letters he probably received daily?

I groaned, leaning my forehead against the cool metal of the mailbox.

Taking a deep breath, I finally slid the letter into the slot. The soft thud it made as it hit the bottom sounded like a death knell to my ears.

“Well, that’s that,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant even though no one was around to hear me.

As I turned to walk back into the house, my phone vibrated with a call. It was Mom.

“Hey, honey, you okay? Just saw you outside the house on the camera.”

“Yeah, Mom. Just sent a letter that might change my life but it’s no big deal.”

“To Brax?”

I nodded though she couldn’t see me. I’d finally opened up and given her more details when she asked about me painting the mural.

“That’s my girl. Whatever happens, I’m proud of you.”

I smiled, feeling a little better. At least someone believed in me, even if I wasn’t sure Brax would.

I closed my eyes, imagining him receiving the letter, opening it with those strong, guitar-calloused hands. Would he crumple it up immediately? Or would he give me a chance?