Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Harper

I wasn’t supposed to come here. Wasn’t supposed to do this. I couldn’t turn back, couldn’t step on ground I’d already left, but I just… all sense had left me when I’d heard about her in the hospital. I’d been sick with worry that night I got Annabel’s messages, picturing every horrible thing that could have happened. Every horrible thing that could have been happening.

So I’d told Susanna it was a personal emergency, took PTO. She was understanding—told me I could work remotely once I came off PTO too if I needed. And I’d been on a flight the next day, and the whole time, I hadn’t paused for breath until my feet touched the ground.

Probably not even. Even after seeing Paisley, pale and sickly in a hospital bed, I still felt like I was lurching forward trying to catch myself. I don’t think I actually stopped to take in reality until we were sitting side-by-side on the garden bench behind Dr. Hardy’s clinic.

Me and Paisley. Here in Bayview. It should have been panic—and I think it was, under the surface somewhere—but above all else, she was okay. I felt like I’d cry with relief so thick it made it hard to breathe.

“Malnutrition?” I said, looking sidelong at her. “How do you even get to that point?”

“Ugh.” She kicked at the dirt. She was so… it felt like she was the exact same as I remembered her and completely different all at once. She still had her blonde hair, and she was wearing her glasses right now along with a hospital gown, but above all else, there was just something… missing. Like her presence itself was gutted. Thin, wispy, like she was barely there. And not just physically. “I’ve been busy. Blame yourself.”

“Me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re the one who ditched the place, and I had to learn on the spot how to keep it running.”

My head was spinning. It felt like something thick, moving slowly inside my skull, a fuzzy sensation blotting out my thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think? Your dumbass bakery. You should have told me laminating dough is such a pain, I’d have burned the place down.”

I stared at her, just… trying to put two and two together, incapable all of a sudden. This whole place—seeing Paisley again, all of it—it had me reeling. “You… you kept Crystal Lights open?”

“Well, yeah.” She hugged herself. It was a chilly night, the crisp fall air setting in as October went into its last week, and Paisley wasn’t exactly dressed for the outdoors.

But impossibly, I felt like if I let her go back inside, I’d never see her again. And I needed… I needed just a second longer.

“I mean, if I let it close, Anders wouldn’t be able to buy Nancy those cupcakes,” she said. “And Emberlynn would have nowhere to get her bread.”

“But—what about the bookstore?”

“Got help…” She shifted. “Oliver helps me run it. Connor and Will help out too, sometimes. Kay’s been spotting me some help in the bakery, too, here and there.”

She was running herself ragged. I’d worked for years in bakeries before running my own, and even then, it had almost taken me out completely jumping into opening my own. Paisley had just dived straight into the deep end. “No wonder,” I heard myself breathe, and she gave me a look.

“What? Quit looking at me like that. You clearly didn’t want to look at me at all anymore.”

The words were knives grazing all over me, but I took it in stride. I deserved it, anyway. I looked down at the ground. “No wonder you haven’t been able to look after yourself.”

“Because I’ve been busting my ass, I know, I know. Emberlynn already gave me the spiel yesterday and she gave it to me today too. You can’t work too hard, you’ll burn out. Well, I’ll burn out if I don’t. Ugh.” She hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and she was quiet for a while—the two of us sitting in an awkward silence with nothing but the rustling of leaves overhead—before she mumbled, “I don’t just want to… to… sit around and brood.”

Seemed like I wasn’t the only one who’d thrown herself into work as a coping mechanism. I swallowed. I deserved this—it was part of the fallout for what happened, for who I was—but Paisley was just getting unfairly caught in the crossfire.

Hearing Paisley complain about Emberlynn was too nostalgic. I wondered how Anders and Nancy were doing. Wondered if she could taste the difference between my cupcakes and Paisley’s.

Probably not. Paisley always had been good in the kitchen.

“But… you’re okay,” I said, quietly. “It’s not too severe?”

“No, yeah…” She scratched the back of her head. “I was majorly sleep-deprived, too, so I just wiped out on the floor yesterday afternoon. I’ll be okay. Doctor just says I need some time to rest and recover.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” The words came out in a whisper, and Paisley clenched her fists tightly before she stood up.

“Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing, then, I guess,” she said, her voice distant in a way I wasn’t used to hearing from her. I stood up with her, and she took a step away.

“Don’t apologize. I chose to come out here. I’m the one who should… apologize.”

“How’d Annabel even get ahold of you?”

“Er… turns out she still had me as a contact on an app we haven’t talked on since we were dating.”

She snorted, her back to me. “Missed a spot while scrubbing your life of us lowly nothings, huh?”

“I… Paisley. It wasn’t—”

“Ugh, stop it. You can’t say my name like that. It’s banned. I’ve banned it. Not allowed.”

I paused. “I—”

“I’m freezing my butt off out here. Plus, the doctor’s probably going to get mad if she finds out I jumped out the window.”

“Well. You probably shouldn’t jump out of windows when you’re sick and hospitalized, but what do I know…”

“Oh, like you’re such an expert in jumping out windows?”

I scratched my head. “That’s very clearly you. Do you… need to get back inside?”

She sighed, hard, turning away. “No. Come with me.”

“What—where?” I stumbled a little keeping up with her, but she didn’t answer me. She didn’t need to—it was only five, six minutes’ walking before I knew exactly where we were going.

How had it only been six months? It felt like I was seeing a relic from a lifetime ago. The redbrick buildings and cobblestone streets, ornate wrought-iron railings tangled with ivy, streetlamps on the side of buildings and the occasional shopfront still lit up late at night—like I’d stepped into a time capsule. It was quiet right now, the taste of rain hanging in the air and a low breeze ringing distant windchimes, and I needed that quiet night right now—the fewer people knew I was here, the better. I had no plans for how long I was here, but I knew I needed to be gone as soon as possible.

In theory, maybe as soon as possible should have meant once I know Paisley’s okay, but I guess I had the answer already. I could have just left. She’d be fine. I’d be fine.

But I followed her, around the corner under a brick archway overgrown with moss and into the business block that I’d called home in my last life, around the picnic table and across the plaza, to the back door of Crystal Lights. Of my home. She pushed open the back door—she’d left it unlocked, because of course she did—and she led me inside.

She headed for the stairs, but she paused at the door into the bakery, pushing it open and peering through. The bakery floor was so nostalgic it felt like a knife to the heart—she’d kept it exactly the same. She’d been running it smoothly, too, from the looks of things, even if the stock was a bit lower than I kept it.

“Good,” she sighed, shutting the door again. “Looks like Fong dealt with the scorpion problem.”

I stopped. “The what problem?”

She perked up a little bit. “Oh, you know.”

“Scorpions?”

She laughed, giving me a sly look over her shoulder that felt like actually seeing her again—it ached deep in my soul, regret at having left and being reminded I needed to leave again, and soon. “Oh, your face right now is priceless. I’m just kidding.”

I sagged. “Glad to see you’re doing okay enough for that, at least…”

“The walk did me some good,” she said, taking the stairs up ahead of me. “I’m fine, really. Emberlynn brought me a chicken burger and everything, got me the one from Brandy’s. Remember when I used to be eating them, like, every day? Ranch dressing, extra pickles, and horseradish. Nothing like a… a…”

She got to the top of the stairs, and just like that, she pitched, staggering and falling against the wall, and she almost fell face-forward onto the floor before I caught her. My heart jumped into my mouth, my hands shaking suddenly, as she struggled to steady herself again. “Paisley—” I started, and she giggled, a small and distant sound.

“Wow… sorry,” she said, her voice like it was coming from miles away. “Little… little dizzy. Seeing spots. Just a little bit.”

“Oh my god. You are not fine, really. You—sit down and I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“I had a chicken burger,” she protested, her voice a whine, almost slurred, as I led her through the door into the living room.

“Right—you need sugar. Not just chicken burgers. Sit—” I guided her to the couch, and she slumped into it, her face ghostly white. My heart was pounding so hard I felt like I’d throw up, but I laid a hand on her shoulder, forcing myself to stay calm. “I’m putting on some tea, and I’m going downstairs to grab you something to eat. Okay?”

She gave me a look like I’d just descended from the heavens, really… not all there. “You’re kinda hot in a suit…”

I’d… process that later. I squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not…”

I didn’t believe her. Luckily, it turned out she was telling the truth—I put on some water to boil, navigating the kitchen like I’d never left, since she hadn’t changed much in the time I’d been away, and I rushed downstairs into the bakery and picked through the chaos that was whatever system Paisley used for organization in the bakery kitchen and grabbed a couple pieces of pound cake. When I got back with the plate of cake and a cup of tea, Paisley was hunched into herself in the corner of the couch. She had a little more color back, but she was still entirely too pale, entirely too spacey.

“Here,” I said, setting them down in front of her.

“That’s too much work… feed me.”

This was hardly any time for inhibitions. I pulled off a piece of cake and I pressed it against Paisley’s lips, and it seemed to shock something in her back into awareness. She opened her mouth, taking the piece of cake, and she chewed it for a second longer than usual before she swallowed.

“Damn, you actually did,” she said, her voice sounding more coherent now. I sagged against the back of the couch.

“Yeah, because I’m scared to death you’re about to wipe out. You could tell me to put on a frilly maid uniform to bring you food and I would, at this point.”

She took another piece of cake. “Just jumping right into your newest fetishes, huh?”

I sighed. “Glad to see you’re well enough to be screwing with me again. Drink some tea, too.”

“Sheesh, snack police over here telling me what order to do what…” But she took a long sip of tea, and I saw the moment in her eyes when she realized how dehydrated she was, and she tipped back nearly the entire cup, going slowly but steadily until there was only a bit left, setting it down and coughing into the crook of her arm. I found my hand going to her back automatically, massaging her as she coughed a second time, harder, rubbing her chest.

“Better?” I said, and she nodded, wiping the crumbs and the tea away from her mouth.

“Ugh… yeah. Spots are starting to go away. That’s embarrassing.”

I felt the knot in my chest drop, uncoiling until I could breathe again. I sank forward in the couch, resting my elbows on my knees and hanging my head. “Scared me half to death, Pais.”

She looked down, and we were quiet for a minute before she murmured, “You’re, um… you’re wearing it.”

“Er…” I cleared my throat. Did she even remember calling me hot in my suit? “It’s just dress code at my new job. Well, the tie isn’t, but I like the look.”

“Not that.” She gestured to her collar. It took me a second to even place it—the necklace was such an ingrained part of me at this point that I forgot most of the time I had it on, tucked away under my shirt. My hand went to it automatically, and Paisley looked away. “Screwing with me,” she muttered. “Wipe me out of your life altogether but keep the necklace. What kind of logic is that?”

“I… Paisley, I…” I shook my head. My thoughts were all so jumbled, so messy, melted and blurred together at the edges. “It’s not that I wanted to wipe every part of you from my life—”

“Then what is it, huh?” She rounded on me, fire in her eyes, and I wanted to shrink away. I held fast.

“It was keeping myself from coming back here,” I said, fixing my gaze straight ahead. “I… I left for a reason. And if I kept hearing from everyone… if I kept hearing from you… I’d come back.”

She watched me for a while, and I felt her gaze on me like ice pressing into my side, before she sighed, turning away. “But here you are. Back and everything.”

“Yeah. Was… worried about you.”

She hung her head, staring at the floor for a while before she took another piece of cake, popping it into her mouth. “Thanks,” she whispered. “It, uh… it means a lot that you did. Even though I’m mad at you right now.”

I couldn’t get into the complicated flurry of emotions that kicked up right now. I took a long breath. “Tell me you’re going to rest now? I should really be bringing you back to the clinic at this point… I’m going to have to call Doctor Hardy and tell her you jumped out the window and are laying low here.”

“I’ll text her. Relax.” She polished off her tea, setting the mug down lightly. “I need to get back to work ASAP, clear up the mess in the bakery—”

“Paisley. You’re getting yourself killed like this. Please.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Just… just let me help.”

“I’m not a child. I can handle myself.”

“Please.”

She huffed, falling against the back of the couch, and she folded her arms. It was a quiet minute before she said, “How long… are you here for?”

“Er—good question. I wasn’t really thinking… just booked a flight here.”

She laughed, a soft little sound, glancing out of the corner of her eye at me. “Dropped everything and ran, just for little old me?”

I cleared my throat. “She didn’t give me any details, just that you were in the hospital. For all I knew, you could have been dying.”

She looked away, tucking her hair back. “So you came running. Ugh… I can’t believe it’s you. Just… it’s, uh… it’s been a while.”

Suddenly, I was balancing on a knife’s edge, wanting to tip in the direction of Bayview and knowing I needed to go the other way. I steeled myself with a long breath. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to. Honestly. But I need to go back eventually. Go back there and… and not look back.”

She sighed, hard. “That scared of me? Just because I climb through the window?”

“It’s not that.”

She finished off one piece of the pound cake. She was eating faster now. It was a good sign. “Stay here tonight.”

I shifted, a nervous energy buzzing in my chest. “I… I will. Yeah. I want to keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

She snorted. “EM one night, Harper the next. Wonder who it’s going to be on the third.”

“Me.” I spoke before I thought it through. Paisley looked over at me, but I kept my gaze straight ahead. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re better. And I mean actually better.”

She stared for a long time before she laughed, soft and sweet, sinking back against the corner of the couch. “That’s kind of dumb.”

“What?”

“You’re just incentivizing me to stay sick.”

“Hm. I’m not accepting that. I’m going to keep feeding you.”

She nudged me with her leg, a playful tap like she always used to do. It had been years, years we’d done this kind of thing—Paisley and I lived right across from one another for so long, and we’d only been apart for six months, but somehow it felt like she and I had just been a flash from so long ago. I couldn’t put a name to the sensation. “Don’t you have a job to get back to eventually?” she said. “Don’t tell me you got fired from your fancy cake place already.”

“Nah, I, uh… Susanna said I can work remote once I’m off PTO.”

She folded her arms, giving me a skeptical look. “Making cakes remotely, huh? That’s the future of bakery tech? That what they do in New York?”

“Oh.” I laughed, an awkward sound. I… hadn’t told Paisley a thing. I knew why I hadn’t, just… the whole thing felt wrong, weird, upside-down. “I, uh, I’m C-suite. I don’t actually do any baking.”

“Oh, what?” She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t bake anymore?”

“Did you… think I wear a suit to work in a bakery?”

She blinked. “You know something?”

“You hadn’t thought about—”

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you miss it?” She cocked her head. “Baking.”

I looked away. “Nah… not a ton. I like baking, but I like this, too. I still do cake decorating sometimes, doing the fancy stuff just so my name can be on it, but mostly I’m in an office.”

“Mm…” She looked down. “You’ve got a whole different energy. Turning into Aria.”

“New York gets through to you pretty quickly…”

“I don’t like it,” she whispered, the words slipping out like she hadn’t even meant to say it. I paused, raising my eyebrows.

“What, I’m too corporate for you now?”

She looked away. “There were already all these things I didn’t know about you… the longer you’re away, the more things pile up about you that I don’t know. I hate it.”

“Paisley—”

“I hate it. It’s not fair.”

I swallowed, my throat tight, but Paisley didn’t give me a chance to respond. She reached for her pocket—a pocket she didn’t have—and slapped at her leg.

“Uh… crap.”

“Just realizing you left all your things in the clinic.”

She laughed nervously, scratching her head. “Kind of just remembered EM was going to swing by and check on me… she’s gonna be a little worried if I’m just gone.”

“Jesus, Pais.” I stood up. “Woman’s going to think you’re dead.”

“Ugh.” She stood up slowly, and I didn’t even question the urge—I put my hands on her shoulders, guided her back to the couch.

“Sit. Rest. I’ll go get your things, tell Doctor Hardy I’m looking after you.”

She scowled. “I can walk—”

“Please, Paisley.” I squeezed her shoulders, and my voice came out softer than I’d meant. “I’m worried about you.”

Her expression softened, and maybe it was the low light from the table lamp casting a flame-colored glow over her face, but I swear she had a shimmer in her eyes. Misty. “You’re such a sap,” she said, her voice a little thicker than usual.

“I’m really not.”

“You are for me,” she said, her voice light, almost teasing. I looked away, turning back to the door.

“Just… don’t want you passing out and falling down the stairs. Do you want me to brew you more tea before I go?”

“I can do that myself—”

“Ah—stay there.” I caught her with a raised finger as she moved to stand up. “I’m doing it.”

“Oh my god. My legs still work.”

“Uh-huh. I’m not listening.”

“You’re the worst!” she called after me into the kitchen as I set the kettle on to boil, and I just…

Well. I was a little weird in the head, because apparently I could get sentimental over a girl I had loved calling me the worst. A girl I still loved calling me the worst.

Guess I’d missed it.