Chapter 22
Alex
Istill haven’t been able to reach Emma to explain in more detail why I wasn’t able to meet her for our park outing, and it’s been bugging me for the entire week since I had to leave Elmwood Falls. I’m heading back tomorrow, just in time for the bake-off competition. I’m hoping I’ll have a moment with her, but I’m concerned that she’ll probably be busy preparing.
Now that the pressing article I had to write for a colleague who fell ill is finished, I can finally relax somewhat. I’ve been in Saint-Martin-de-Ré, immersing myself in the quaint charm of this town I’ve always adored to wrap up the piece. It hasn’t been easy pushing thoughts of Emma out of my mind. I tried calling her to explain, but everything happened so fast, there wasn’t much time. I only hoped my voicemail would suffice until I could return to Elmwood Falls. Initially, I considered declining the assignment, but the desperation in my editor’s voice was unmistakable. My colleague, who was supposed to write the article, hadn’t disclosed his illness until the last minute, and the article was due for next week’s edition.
Sitting outside a small café, I’m taking in the serene atmosphere of Saint-Martin-de-Ré. Its cobbled streets, framed by the soft hues of historic buildings, rumor tales of the past, inviting curiosity. The harbor, a stone’s throw away, is alive with the gentle bobbing of boats, their masts swaying rhythmically. The air carries the subtle scent of salt mingled with freshly baked goods from nearby bakeries. Here, amidst the quiet day-to-day of this charming town, I find a moment of peace, sipping my Café noisette and letting the surrounding tranquility wash over me.
I’ve missed this place, but oddly, I’m finding myself eager to leave. Knowing I’ll be seeing Emma again makes me happy. My first stop, of course, was the bakery across the street. Each morning, I’ve indulged in my favorite, a Saffron-Infused Pear and Almond Tart. I’ve decided to buy a box to take home, a gift for Emma.
I take another sip of my drink, then stand from the metal chair, crossing the street. I step into the bakery, the aroma enveloping me.
Walking up to the counter, I smile at the young woman behind it. “Comment vas-tu, Sophie?”
Sophie looks up, her eyes widening. “Alex Carter, je n’en crois pas mes yeux! ?a fait longtemps!”
She walks around the table for a hug, as I answer, “It has been a very long time, Sophie.”
Standing back, she eyes me. “Always so handsome, Alex. What have you been doing with yourself?”
I share with her the highlights of my life since we last met, eventually mentioning Emma.
“Ah, you seem quite taken with this young lady,” she observes, a playful glint in her eye. “And what of Georgia? Have you two parted ways?”
I confirm that Georgia and I ended things amicably, believing it was for the best.
“Ah, Georgia…I recall her, but she never seemed quite your match. This Emma, however?” She beams. “The way you speak her name, it has a certain…how do you say? Warmth?”
Feeling a blush creep up my cheeks, I’m reminded of Sophie’s knack for seeing right through me. I’ve never been one to conceal much from her.
“Being with her does bring me joy,” I admit.
Her expression softens. “Then you must not delay. Tell her, Alex. Share with her your feelings.”
I laugh. “It’s not quite that easy.”
“Ah, but the good things in life, they are never simple, Alex. All one needs is just a dash of love to set the world right.” She playfully swats my shoulder. “You will see this to be true soon enough, my friend. Tell this young lady everything in your heart. Then you must bring her to me and treat her to our Saffron-Infused Pear and Almond Tart you fancy so much. This will be my reward for being correct.”
I laugh, tilting my head back as I did. “I will do that, Sophie.”
“I’m so happy you stopped in to see me.”
“I’d never come to town without doing that, Sophie,” I tell her. “You’ve always been a dear friend, and I can’t resist your tarts.”
“Let me fetch one for you.”
“Could you prepare a dozen for me? I believe Emma would appreciate a little taste of Paris.”
Sophie turns with a smile. “Of course, Alex. Consider it a gift from me to you. I insist, no objections accepted.”
I watch as she quickly boxes the tarts, then sets it on the counter.
“Do not be so long to come see me again.”
“I promise,” I tell her, taking the box. “And, thank you, Sophie.”
“Goodbye for now, Alex Carter.”
I leave the bakery, and I make my way to the hotel I’m staying at. As I walk, I open the box and choose a tart. Slipping it in my mouth, I savor the taste. As delicious as I remember. The tart alone is almost worth the trip.
I smile, eager to give the box to Emma. I know she’ll love it.
I finally return to my room at the Elmwood Falls Inn. After I unpack, I make a quick change of clothes, run a comb through my hair, and check my reflection, all the while Sophie’s voice echoes in my mind.
Then you must not delay. Tell her, Alex. Share with her your feelings.
I’m determined to do just that. The week away from Elmwood Falls felt like an eternity—far worse than the self-imposed exile in my room after being shunned by most of the town. Without Emma’s presence, the isolation was unbearable. There were no impromptu visits urging me to venture out, no casual run-ins at Elmwood Falls Heritage Bakery or even the diner where she’d be waiting with a smile that could cut through the fog of my worst days.
Reflecting on the time spent in Saint-Martin-de-Ré, I recognize how Emma’s absence magnified her importance in my life. Every moment away was a stark reminder of what I stood to lose if I didn’t act. Clutching the box of tarts, I leave the inn. I’m taking my time walking to Emma’s apartment because I need to practice what I want to say.
“Emma, being with you is like finding a rare truffle in a forest of mushrooms. No, that’s not right. I mean, you’re special, not a fungus,” I murmur to myself, immediately cringing at the comparison. Shaking my head, I try again. “Your smile is brighter than the Eiffel Tower at midnight. Wait, does that even make sense?” I sigh, realizing that might sound more bizarre than romantic. I’m determined to get it right, so I attempt another line. “Our time together is like a perfectly balanced recipe, except I’m afraid I might be the ingredient that spoils the batch.” I stop in my tracks, groaning softly. “No, that’s not what I mean,” I whisper to the empty street. Then again, I’m probably not too far off. My attempt to woo her will definitely be spoiled by me talking. Maybe I should simply write a note.
Deciding that’s not the best thing, I urge myself to go forward.
Soon, I’ve reached Emma’s apartment but no closer to knowing what I want to say. Maybe I should just leave the tarts and go.
Before I can do that, the door opens, revealing Emma with her handbag and a grocery bag. Her eyes widen as she sees me, and I hear a soft gasp.
“Hi, Emma,” I say.
For a minute, she seems to collect herself, folding her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes.
Not a good sign.
“Looks who’s come crawling back,” she says, her words clearly showing her hurt.
Another not a good sign. She’s obviously mad.
I swallow hard. “I just got in from France. I wanted to—”
“Wait.” She holds up a hand. “You get cold feet and suddenly decide to run off to Paris when you can’t just tell me you had second thoughts?”
“Actually, I wasn’t in Paris,” I say feebly.
“Doesn’t matter. You ran.”
“I didn’t run, Emma.” I see Frankie behind her, trying excitedly to push by. She expertly blocks the dog.
She scoffs, and I see her eyes well with tears. “Apparently that’s what you’re good at. You can’t break up with that state’s name girl, Alabama, or whatever, so you run away. Then you can’t just tell me you’ve had second thoughts about me so you run out of the country? I deserve better than that.”
Her words sting, not because they’re entirely untrue, but because they reflect a version of myself I’m desperately trying to leave behind.
“No, you don’t understand, Em—”
“No, you don’t understand. You need to leave, Alex. I’ve had a week of second thoughts myself. But I’m considerate enough to tell you to your face. Have a nice life.”
Before I can speak, she slams the door in my face.
I’m left with a mix of emotion, mostly shock.
She thinks I’ve been having second thoughts? That isn’t it at all. I raise my fist and knock.
“Emma, please let me explain. I got called away for work.”
But I’m only greeted by the faint sound of Frankie barking.
Slowly, I turn to walk away from her apartment. She thinks I ran away just as we were getting closer. She thinks my history is repeating itself, like when I ran from Georgia. Do it once, it’s easy to do it again. I sigh. I need to fix it somehow. I’m not sure how, but I know I need to fix it.
The question is how. I’ve never been the one to try to fix a relationship. Then again, I’ve never been in a relationship I truly wanted to fix. Not until Emma came into my life. But the cold truth is that we’re not even in a relationship. I’ve managed to destroy a relationship before it even started.
I push out a heavy breath. I want to turn back around and try again. Or stay outside her door because she can’t stay in there forever. But instead, I decide I need to give her space. She needs to focus on the competition. It means a lot to her and I don’t want to mess that up. But after it ends, I’m going to do everything I can to explain things to her. I want her to hear my side and then make her decision about where we stand.
While I’m really hoping she’ll accept what I have to say, I’m going to have to respect her wishes. Even if it breaks my heart.