Chapter 15
Cecelia
I remained utterly still as I leaned against the counter, my hand resting lightly over my heart that hadn’t settled since my outing with Gabe.
Memories drifted through my mind, each one another precious ingredient folded into a recipe we had been unknowingly creating together: shared glances over ink and parchment as we studied my maps, the unexpected smiles—and even laughter—he had somehow coaxed from me, the lingering sensation of his hand entwined with mine as we strolled beneath the forest canopy.
Oddly, I found that I could still decipher many of Gabe’s emotions now that the bond was broken.
His expressive face seemed to communicate without words.
I found myself longing for the way I’d been able to vicariously experience feelings through him, even as I was relieved not to be bound to him any longer.
My feet seemed to move closer to him as we walked, even without the tug of magic.
Or at least not the kind of magic I was used to.
The brightest memory of all lingered at the forefront of my thoughts.
We’d knelt together beneath the maple tree while the light faded behind us.
He had looked at me with such quiet tenderness that the rest of the world seemed to fall away.
His hand had lifted ever so slightly, as though drawn towards my face… before he caught himself.
For one suspended heartbeat I’d been certain he was going to kiss me.
I had waited, scarcely daring to breathe, wanting something I hadn’t yet possessed the courage to name.
Then the moment had slipped quietly between us, carried away by the encroaching dusk, leaving behind a strange disappointment that had followed me ever since our parting.
Beyond my fluttering pulse, a warmth gradually spread through my chest, as soft and gentle as sunlight after rain or an embrace after a nightmare. It felt achingly familiar, stirring memories of a feeling I used to know long before I’d forged my magical bargain with the recipe book.
I could sense Gabe’s presence outside gathering firewood—not through the magical bond that no longer forced us together, but through a quieter awareness that had steadily grown the longer we spent together. Whatever enchantment had first drawn us together had long since become unnecessary.
What had once felt inconveniently close now seemed impossibly far away. I found myself wishing he were here beside me instead of outside. The realization bewildered me. Why should the absence of a man I had known only a short while feel so…noticeable?
“I’m pleased to see you had a good time.”
Grandmother’s impish voice tugged me from the forest paths I’d blissfully wandered with Gabe that my thoughts had been happily retracing.
I’d been so absorbed in reliving each scenic moment from a journey I wished had never ended that I hadn’t even noticed the familiar tap of her cane as she hobbled into the kitchen.
A knowing sparkle danced in her eyes, one that suddenly made me want to hide every thought that had been filling my heart.
I shrugged, attempting an indifference I already knew she would see through. “It was…alright.”
He eyebrows lifted. “Yet you’re smiling.”
“I’m not.”
The instinctive denial escaped before I realized it. My hand rose to my face, where my fingertips found the unmistakable curve of my lips. I traced it almost absently, astonished to discover it had apparently been there the entire time, likely ever since greeting Gabe.
Grandmother chuckled. “No, dear. I believe it’s become a part of you; this time you simply forgot to hide it.”
I said nothing, my fingers continuing to hypnotically trace the unfamiliar smile as though I scarcely recognized my own face.
Could a single afternoon truly leave such a lasting imprint?
I had wandered countless forests before, yet none had remained with me the way this one had, leaving me feeling so… alive.
“This can’t happen,” I whispered, torn between confusion at the mere possibility I had begun to feel, horror at the idea of forming an attachment just in time to be ripped away, and unrealistic hope that somehow this could be more than a sweet, fleeting memory.
Grandmother only smiled more gently.. “I think it’s time you stopped stubbornly pretending it isn’t.” Her eyes twinkled again. “Though I will admit I was rather hoping he’d kiss you.”
The blush that had scarcely left my cheeks since Gabe’s first endearing smile deepened until I felt warmer than the bread still baking in the hearth.
Embarrassment warred with an altogether different feeling as I realized Grandmother had apparently been watching from the window.
Not that we’d been exactly discreet, standing directly in front of the curtainless door.
Yet beneath my mortification lay another, far more pleasant realization: for one impossible moment…
I had wanted him to kiss me, desperately so.
My heart beat so fiercely it almost hurt. I tried to suppress the dangerous longing before it could grow any stronger, grasping instead for the irritation simmering beneath it. Anger felt far safer than hope.
“It wasn’t your place to spy on us,” I snapped. “Please stop meddling in affairs that aren’t yours.”
The words left my mouth before I could check them.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken so sharply towards my grandmother.
Regret struck almost immediately. Another reason emotions were burdens better left behind—they clouded judgment, loosened tongues, and wounded the very people one most wished to protect.
Grandmother’s playful smile faded, though not into hurt. Instead she regarded me quietly, with the same patient tenderness she had shown me ever since I was a little girl.
“I may tease you about Gabe,” she said softly, “but any matchmaking is only my way of encouraging you to trust what I already see growing inside you. I would never try to force your heart where it did not already wish to go.” She reached over and gently squeezed my hand.
“The only thing standing in your way is fear.”
“I’m not—” The protest died before I could finish.
For the first time, I understood what she meant. I hadn’t spent these past years protecting myself from grief—I’d been insulating myself from everything. From hope, from joy, from love. From the possibility of losing those I cared about again.
In trying so desperately to avoid another broken heart, I had quietly accepted a life where my heart never truly beat at all.
Silence settled between us. Not the empty silence I had grown accustomed to over the years, but one filled with thoughts too large for words.
Grandmother didn’t interrupt, she simply watched me with quiet patience, allowing the truth I’d spent years outrunning to slowly settle into my heart.
I drew an unsteady breath, trying to gather the scattered pieces of myself.
Movement beside me caught my attention. Grandmother had been standing too long. She shifted her weight onto her cane and began lowering herself into a chair near the hearth, but her strength faltered halfway and she swayed.
Without thinking, I rushed forward and caught her arm to steady her. “Granny!”
I scarcely recognized the nickname I hadn’t used since before I began surrendering my emotions to the recipe book, when I had still been a little girl who followed her through the bakery with flour-covered hands and endless questions.
Through the tears glistening in her eyes, her face brightened with unmistakable joy. “You’re coming home, Cecelia. I’m so glad Gabe is helping you rediscover yourself in ways I couldn’t.”
It wasn’t until she looked at me with such quiet certainty that saw straight through every defense I’d so carefully built that I realized little pieces of the girl I’d once been had already begun finding their way back.
I slipped an arm around her frail shoulders and carefully helped her settle into the chair.
“There’s concern in your eyes.” Grandmother’s weathered hand rose to brush dampness from beneath my lashes. Only then did I realize I was crying. “You’re worried for me.”
“Of course I am.” The answer came without thought.
I’d spent years caring for Grandmother because it was the right thing to do, but for the first time I could feel the fear behind that care—a crushing weight pressing so heavily against my chest I could scarcely breathe.
This was why I’d been so willing to sign my emotions over to the magic…
and yet even though it was painful, I couldn’t seem to regret the discomfort I was currently experiencing.
Grandmother smiled lovingly and patted my cheek. “I’m alright, dear. Just tired.”
I searched her face for her sincerity, desperate to determine whether she truly meant it.
She looked well enough…at least for today.
But I noticed things I had somehow overlooked before: the weariness lingering beneath her smile, the slight tremble in her hands, the deeper lines age had etched beside her eyes.
Even exhausted, she was looking at me with the same boundless affection she always had.
She loves me. The realization came softly, stirring a memory I hadn’t allowed myself to remember. She loved me just as my parents had loved me…and how I’d loved them.
The recollection unlocked something deep within me—grief, longing, the ache of missing them.
I’d believed those feelings had vanished when I sacrificed them to the recipe book.
Now I understood they had never truly disappeared—magic had only buried them beneath silence.
Even without feeling them, they had remained woven through every choice I’d made, quietly shaping the person I’d become without my ever realizing they were still there.
“Are you sure you’re alright…Granny?” No matter how desperately I tried to regain control, fear continued spilling into every wavering word. She had been doing so much better lately, her matchmaking antics giving her new purpose and new life.