Epilogue #2
"You won!" Shay was shaking her arm like she was trying to dislodge it from the socket. "Elliott, you won!"
The table erupted. Milly burst into tears. Jamie let out a whistle that could probably be heard three streets away. Tom looked like he might actually pass out, which would be inconvenient given that Elliott needed him to run the bakery next week.
And Julia.
Julia was looking at her like she'd hung the moon, and Elliott's brain shut down entirely.
"Go," Julia said, laughing. "They're waiting for you."
Right. The stage. The award. The hundreds of people staring at her.
Elliott stood on legs that didn't feel entirely connected to her body and made her way toward the front of the room. The walk felt endless. She was aware of applause, of faces turning to watch her, of the bright lights that made everything slightly unreal.
She climbed the steps. Someone pressed a heavy glass trophy into her hands. A microphone appeared.
Elliott stared at it like it might bite her.
"Um," she said. Her voice echoed back at her, too loud. "Thank you."
Silence. The audience waited.
Elliott had prepared a speech. She'd written it out, revised it, practised it in front of the bathroom mirror while Julia pretended not to listen through the door. She couldn't remember a single word of it.
So she said the only thing that came to mind.
"I'm not very good at this." A ripple of laughter. "Talking to people. Accepting help. Admitting I can't do everything alone." She looked down at the trophy. "I spent a long time believing that needing people was weakness. That if I just worked hard enough, I wouldn't have to rely on anyone."
She found Milly's face in the crowd. "I was wrong."
The words came easier now. "This book, just like my first, only exists because of the people who refused to let me push them away.
Milly, who believed in me before I believed in myself.
Who gave me a place to belong when I had nowhere else.
" Milly pressed a hand to her heart, tears streaming freely.
"Shay, who never once let me wallow in self-pity, even when I really wanted to.
" Shay blew her a kiss. "Jamie, who provided the wine and the wisdom in equal measure.
" Jamie raised his glass. "Tom, who kept the bakery running while I was buried in deadlines and didn't complain once.
" Tom had gone bright red and looked like he might cry.
Elliott's gaze found Julia.
"And Julia." Her voice caught. She cleared her throat. "Who taught me that asking for help isn't weakness. It's the whole point. She made me better. In every way that matters."
Julia was crying. She was definitely crying, even though she'd deny it later.
Elliott raised the trophy slightly. "So. Thank you. To all of you. I couldn't have done this alone." A pause. "Literally. I tried. It was a disaster."
Laughter. Applause. Elliott escaped the stage as quickly as dignity allowed.
She'd barely made it back to the table, had barely set down the trophy and accepted Milly's tearful embrace, when she saw Gabby approaching.
Julia went rigid beside her.
Here it comes, Elliott thought. The scene. The dramatic confrontation. Gabby Richardson didn't lose gracefully; everyone knew that. She'd probably demand a recount or accuse the judges of bias, or—
Gabby stopped in front of Elliott and extended her hand.
"Best woman won," she said. Her voice was cool, but not hostile. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition."
Elliott stared at the offered hand.
Then, slowly, she shook it.
"Thank you," she said. "That means a lot."
It didn't, really. But it was the right thing to say, and Gabby seemed satisfied. She nodded once, then turned to Julia.
Something passed between them. Elliott couldn't read it, years of history compressed into a single glance. Gabby's expression flickered, just for a moment, into something that might have been respect.
"Thank you for helping Bridget," she said. She took a deep breath, swallowed, then added: "Perhaps you could teach me to do that. I can’t have a PA collapsing at every award ceremony I go to."
And Julia smiled. Really smiled. A big, broad smile that filled the room and more. There was no more small Julia, no more Julia cramming herself into a corner to please everyone. "I’d be happy to," she said to Gabby.
Gabby watched her for a second longer, then gave a nod and walked back to her table. It was over.
Julia let out a breath. "That was…"
"Unexpected?"
"I was going to say 'terrifying,' but sure."
Elliott took her hand. "She's not fixed."
"No." Julia watched her mother sit down, accept condolences from her entourage. "But maybe she's trying. In her own way."
It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't resolution. But it was something.
The ceremony wound down around them. Music began to play, soft and unobtrusive. People rose from their tables, mingling, congratulating, networking.
Elliott looked at the trophy in front of her, then at the people surrounding her. Milly and Shay and Jamie and Tom and Julia.
Her people.
"Come on," Julia said, tugging her hand. "Let's get some air."
???
The balcony was quiet, the noise of the reception muffled behind glass doors. London spread out below them, all glittering lights and distant traffic, and Julia leaned against the railing and breathed.
"You okay?" Elliott asked, coming to stand beside her.
"Yeah. Just… a lot."
"Mmm."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment. Elliott's shoulder was warm against hers. Inside, Julia could see their friends through the window, Shay gesturing dramatically about something, Jamie laughing, Milly examining Elliott's trophy with obvious delight.
"This time next month, I’ll be a real nurse," Julia said.
"I know."
Julia’s heart ached a little. "What if I'm terrible at it?"
Elliott turned to look at her with a look of pure surprise. "You won't be."
"You don't know that." Julia's voice was smaller than she wanted it to be. "What if I've been wrong this whole time? What if I only thought I wanted to be a nurse because it was the opposite of what my mother wanted? What if I get there and I'm hopeless and everyone realizes I'm a fraud and—"
"Julia."
"—I should have just stayed at the bakery, at least there I only set things on fire occasionally."
"Julia." Elliott's hands found her shoulders, turning her gently.
"I watched you save Milly's life. I watched you talk down a complete stranger from a panic attack in the middle of a crowded room.
I've seen you with customers, with Tom, with everyone.
You know how to make people feel safe. That's not something you can fake. "
Julia's eyes were stinging. "What if it's not enough?"
"It's enough." Elliott's voice was certain. "You were born for this. I've never been more sure of anything."
Julia sniffed. "You're being suspiciously nice to me."
"Don't get used to it."
"Too late."
Elliott's mouth quirked. She dropped her hands from Julia's shoulders and turned back to the view, leaning on the railing. "It's going to be strange. The bakery without you."
"You'll have Tom."
"Tom's starting pastry school. He'll be part-time at best." Elliott shrugged. "But we'll manage. We always do."
Julia studied her profile. The sharp line of her jaw. The way the city lights caught in her dark eyes. "It's going to be incredible, you know. You just won Best Cookbook. The bakery's thriving. Candice is gone. Everything you've worked for is actually happening. It’s everything you want."
"That depends."
Julia frowned. "On what?"
Elliott was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was carefully casual. Too casual, the kind of casual that meant she was petrified.
"On how you feel about being married to a famous pastry chef and award-winning cookbook author."
Julia's heart stopped. "Is that a proposal?"
"It's a question. Well, a statement, I suppose." Elliott still wasn't looking at her. "The proposal involves a ring I definitely didn't hide in Shay's handbag because I didn't trust myself not to lose it."
Julia laughed. It came out slightly hysterical. "You gave Shay an engagement ring?"
"I gave Shay a ring box with strict instructions not to open it, lose it, or tell anyone about it." Elliott finally turned to face her. "She's probably already done all three."
"Elliott…"
"You don't have to answer now. Or ever. It was just a question, and if you're not ready, or if you don't want—"
Julia kissed her.
It was not a gentle kiss. It was not tentative or questioning. It was the kind of kiss that said yes and finally and what took you so long all at once.
When they broke apart, Elliott looked slightly dazed. "Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes, you idiot."
Elliott's smile was the best thing Julia had ever seen.
They walked back inside together, hand in hand, and Julia wasn't even slightly surprised to find Shay already holding up the ring box with a grin that could only be described as insufferable.
"Took you long enough," Shay said.
Milly burst into fresh tears. Jamie was already flagging down a waiter for more champagne. Tom had his phone out and was taking photos with the enthusiasm of a proud parent at a graduation ceremony.
Elliott took the box from Shay, opened it, and slid the ring onto Julia's finger. It fit perfectly.
"I hate you all," Elliott said, but she was smiling.
Julia looked around the table at the people who had become her family. At the woman who had become her home.
Two years ago, she'd been given a bakery she didn't want and a flatmate she couldn't stand. She'd been a people-pleaser with no idea who she actually was.
Now she knew.
This was exactly where she was supposed to end up. She'd just taken the long way around.