Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Caroline
After lunch, Noah didn’t take me straight home. Instead, he steered us into a parking lot I’d never even noticed—a gourmet kitchen store, all chrome and glass, with rows of mixers lined up like soldiers in the window.
He walked me in, ignoring my protests that I didn’t need anything, that it was “fun just to look.”
Inside, I wandered through the aisles, trailing my fingers over bread pans, pastry brushes, sugar thermometers. It was heaven for a baking nerd.
I stopped at the stand mixers—industrial, heavy-duty, the kind I’d only seen in cooking shows. I looked at the price tag and felt a familiar ache. I could pay rent for three months on what that thing cost.
I glanced over at Noah, but he was across the store, lost in a conversation with a clerk.
I drifted to the cookbook section, flipping through pages, pretending I belonged there.
A half hour later, I found him by the register. He hadn’t bought anything, just smiled and said, “Ready?”
We walked out together. I didn’t ask why we’d come, but something about the whole thing made me feel light, like just being there was a treat.
That night, after dinner at his place, I got home to a huge box waiting by my door.
The label said “Caroline’s Kitchen.” I opened it, and inside were all the things I’d touched—every pan, every spatula, even the mixer, in the exact color I’d admired.
There was no card, no note. But I knew.
I called him, voice shaky. “You didn’t have to—”
He cut me off. “You’re allowed to want things, Caroline. Especially when you’ve earned them.”
My hands trembled as I unpacked each item, setting them on my tiny kitchen counter. I didn’t cry, but I came close.
That night, I texted him: “Thank you for believing in my dream. Even when I can’t.”
His reply came quick. “Always.”
The next morning, I woke up early, made cinnamon rolls from scratch, and brought a whole pan to the café.
He took one bite and said, “You’ve got it.”
And just like that, I started to believe it too.
We kissed in the kitchen, flour everywhere, laughing into each other’s mouths.
And later, back at his place, we let everything else fade away.
We loved each other like it was the first—and maybe the last—night on earth.
There was nothing left to wish for.
Just us.