Chapter 12 #2
Leo handed her a bag of flour and a stick of cold butter. "Sure you do."
They fell into a natural, easy rhythm. Leo gave her small tasks—cutting the butter into the flour for the biscuits, seasoning the vegetable filling, and stirring the thick, creamy sauce on the stove.
At first, Olivia tried to act like she was only helping because he insisted, but gradually, the tension in her shoulders began to soften.
The familiar motions of cooking pulled her out of her own head.
“You’re chopping those carrots way too thick,” Olivia pointed out, leaning over the island.
Leo paused, knife in hand, and gave her an offended look. “I survived just fine before you walked into my kitchen to supervise me.”
“And it’s a miracle you did,” Olivia teased, reaching over to adjust the heat under the skillet. “You need to let the butter brown a little more before you add the flour, or the roux is going to taste raw.”
“You and your professional standards,” Leo grumbled, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“My professional standards are the only reason this is going to be edible,” she shot back.
The banter felt exactly like the old version of them. For a few minutes, there was no stolen money, no forged signature, no James, and no Brooklyn. It was just the two of them, standing in a warm kitchen, bickering over a recipe.
As Olivia rolled out the biscuit dough, she realized she was smiling for real.
The realization almost hurt. She had not felt normal in days.
While the skillet baked in the oven, they worked together to clean the counters. The playful mood shifted, settling into something quieter. Olivia wiped down the granite island, the damp cloth moving in slow circles.
She looked up at Leo. He was washing the mixing bowls in the sink, his broad shoulders relaxed.
"I missed this," Olivia said quietly.
Leo turned his head, drying his hands on a towel. "Cooking?"
Olivia shook her head. "This. Us."
She let the moment breathe in the quiet kitchen. "I missed you, Leo. I missed being able to talk to you, or just be with you like it always has been. I missed you showing up at the bakery... I missed my best friend."
She did not accuse him, but the hurt bled through the words.
Leo’s reaction was restrained, but his eyes darkened with an emotion she could not quite name. He tossed the towel onto the counter, taking a step toward her.
"I missed you too, Liv," he said, his voice dropping into a rough, honest register.
He did not explain why he had pulled back. But the raw sincerity in his expression made it clear that keeping his distance had cost him something. "I was trying to do what I thought was right."
Olivia did not fully understand the weight behind the words, but she heard the truth in them. She offered a small nod.
When the timer went off, they sat at the kitchen island and ate together. The dinner gave Olivia a fragile sense of peace. It wasn't healing, and it wasn't exactly happiness, but it was a small, vital reminder that she could still laugh. She could still sit at a table and feel cared for.
***
The next day at the bakery was a blur of frantic energy.
The morning rush brought a line of customers out the door. The phones rang constantly with catering inquiries. Trays of laminated pastries went in and out of the hot ovens, and Sam called out prep reminders over the hum of the espresso machine.
Olivia kept herself relentlessly busy. Working was far easier than thinking.
She smiled at her regular customers. She answered Elena's questions at the register.
She helped Maria pipe buttercream onto a row of custom cupcakes.
She pretended she was fine because there were people depending on her, and the bakery needed her to function.
Leo had dropped her off that morning and promised to pick her up at seven. He had texted once around noon to make sure she had eaten lunch. Olivia had answered with a quick photo of a sandwich.
By five o'clock, the afternoon rush faded and the bakery quieted down. Olivia was wiping down the front display cases when the door chimed.
She looked up, expecting a late straggler, and her heart leapt.
Claire and Sophie walked through the door.
Olivia was genuinely thrilled to see them. It had been far too long since they had all gotten together in person. Their lives were consumed by toddlers, family schedules, and the endless demands of motherhood. Olivia had missed them more than she realized.
"Look at you," Claire said, dropping her purse and pulling Olivia into a tight hug. "You look exhausted, Liv."
"We came as soon as we could," Sophie added, wrapping her arms around both of them.
Olivia laughed, a bright, relieved sound. It was the first time she had laughed all day. She felt a rush of deep affection. These were her friends. These were the women who knew her before her marriage became a place she had to survive.
"I am so glad you guys are here," Olivia said, pulling back. "Let me grab some pie. I have a slice of pecan for you, Sophie, and a cherry tart for Claire. I'll grab Hannah's favorite blueberry crumb for myself. Since she couldn't make it, the pie can represent her in spirit."
Sophie laughed. "Hannah would absolutely approve of that logic."
Olivia plated the desserts and led them into the back office. She closed the door, shutting out the noise of the kitchen.
At first, it felt comforting. They sat around the small desk, eating pie and drinking coffee. Olivia thought, for one fleeting moment, that maybe she could tell them everything. Maybe she didn't have to carry the weight on her own. Maybe she could finally share the burden.
"So, how are you, Liv?" Claire asked gently.
Olivia took a breath, preparing to give a small, careful answer. "It's been a really hard week..."
The mood in the room shifted.
Sophie and Claire exchanged a quick, loaded look.
Olivia stopped talking. She noticed the glance. "What is it?"
Sophie set her fork down. She looked uncomfortable, her eyes full of pity. "James contacted yesterday."
Olivia went perfectly still. The blood roared in her ears.
Claire reached out, placing a hand over Olivia's.
She tried to soften the blow. "He's just worried about you, Liv.
He said things have gotten out of hand between you two.
He told us you left after a misunderstanding about some finances.
He said you were really upset, not thinking clearly, and that you're staying at Leo's house. "
Olivia felt the hope drain out of the room, replaced by a suffocating, icy dread.
"We are not judging you," Sophie said quickly, her voice laced with concern. "But we really think you should go back home and talk to James properly."
"Marriages go through hard moments," Claire added, squeezing her hand. "Maybe this is something you guys can work through, before it becomes bigger than it needs to be."
Claire and Sophie were not trying to be cruel. They honestly believed they were helping. James had framed the situation perfectly. He had made himself sound like the concerned, reasonable, heartbroken husband. He had painted Olivia as emotional, reactive, and confused.
That made the betrayal infinitely worse.
She felt stunned, humiliated, and deeply, terribly alone. The people she was so relieved to see had unknowingly walked in carrying her husband's lies.