Chapter Sixteen

Two days later

I can do this. I can do this. The vaporator opened on the third floor of the cloudtopper. With a gulp, Prudence exited. This was the moment of truth—the grand opening. She'd arrived an hour early in hopes they could hash things out before the customers started to arrive— if the customers arrived. What if nobody showed up? It would be devastating.

No more devastating than having Larth reject me.

They hadn't seen or spoken to each other since she'd left the apartment. She prayed he'd be ready to listen to her explanation now, let her apologize, allow her to make it up to him. A couple of days without him had cemented her wish to save their marriage. She was going to fight to keep it. They had only been married three weeks. This was a tiny setback, a bump in the road. All marriages went through that, didn't they?

Except their fight and estrangement didn't feel like a little setback. It felt like a huge one, like they'd been hurled back to square one—or even negative square one. What if he was still hurt and angry? If he refused to speak to her, it would be a long, awkward day.

She wanted to go home where she belonged. Hope and Krogan had been incredibly gracious and hospitable, but she ached for her husband, and she feared the gap between them would widen the longer she stayed away. Besides, she had to get away from the chocolate. Soufflés, cakes, cream pie, brownies, muffins, pudding. Never in a millennium would she have envisioned she could ever get sick of chocolate, but Don Juan had plied her with so many sweets in the past two days, she could hardly stand the smell anymore; it made her nauseous. She still felt a little queasy. Why was the android so obsessed with chocolate?

Hope had finally ordered him to stop serving it.

"But it is medicinal," he'd argued.

"It's an overdose. No more chocolate unless we ask for it."

As she rounded the corner, her jaw dropped at the huge crowd waiting outside the bakery. There had to be at least twenty-five people, mostly Caradonians but some human women, too. They weren't supposed to open for an hour!

Her eyes welled with happy tears. If there were this many this early, imagine what they would get throughout the day. We did it! We did it! Larth would be thrilled . He would need all the help he could get to serve this many people. Maybe this success would help soothe the hurt she'd caused.

Why hadn't he opened and let the people in? A customer in line was worth two at large. Unless he wasn't here yet. Could Donna have glitched? She'd overbaked once. Could she have failed to bake at all? Had Larth forgotten to give her orders?

Envisioning all manner of dire straits, she rushed toward the bakery. "Excuse me, excuse me. Let me through please. I work here." She gently elbowed her way through the crowd. There were so many people, she couldn't see inside the shop. "Thank you for coming. It won't be long now, promise," she reassured them.

The door started to slide open. At least he didn't deactivate me. That's a good sign. Before it fully opened, she squeezed inside. The door closed.

Expression wary, her big, blue husband stood behind the counter. The cases were full of baked goods, she noted with relief. Donna had done the baking. "Hi," he said hesitantly.

"Hi." She drank him in, longing welling up inside. I love him so much. This has to work! In her head, she had a whole speech prepared, but between getting off the vaporator and squeezing through the people, she'd forgotten all of it. Her gaze roved over him, then she squinted at the black lettering on the tan apron he wore over his work clothes. What?

Her gaze flew to the overhead sign. PRULA'S BAKERY. She gawked.

"What—how did you—I don't understand..." Heart racing, she shook her head. "P-Prula's Bakery? You changed the name?"

He came from behind the counter. "It's what you deserve. I'm so sorry, Pru, for shutting you out, for making you feel like you didn't have a place in my life. I love you. I think I started to love you when we first started working together, for sure after we'd slept together. But I'm stupid, and I didn't realize it. I know you didn't deliberately watch the hologram, and I'm sorry for chasing you away."

Laughing and crying, she threw herself into his arms. His mouth covered hers, and he kissed her thoroughly. She heard the customers cheering and stomping with applause. "I love you, too," she said when they parted. "It really was an accident. The hologram came on by itself."

"I know. I believe you."

"I want to come home. I want our marriage to be real."

"That's what I want, too," he said.

Her gaze shot to the sign again. "Are you sure about the name change? You don't have to do that." Confident of his love now, the name didn't matter.

"I'm sure. It's the right thing to do. For you, and for us." He palmed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. "You are my wife and my life now. And you have contributed so much to the success of the bakery. I couldn't have done this without you." He hesitated and then continued, "It's important for me to recognize and honor Sala's legacy though."

"Yes, of course, yes." She cupped his cheek. "The name is perfect. How did you ever get a sign so quickly?" She knew from reviewing the expense statements the original sign had been ordered months ago.

"Money talks. I paid triple to get it designed, delivered, and installed late last night. It was worth every cent." He plucked at his coverall. "Had new aprons printed, too!" He grinned.

She hugged him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist. "They're perfect, too." Life was perfect.

"Again, I'm so sorry I fractured your heart."

She pulled back and gaped at him. "Fractured…"

"After I came to my senses, I came to see you. The android didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't."

"The android said you were out with Hope. And then he slammed the door in my face."

"Well, that takes the cake! Hope took me sightseeing to distract me. I was upset about our fight. Don Juan never mentioned you had come by. We asked him if there had been any messages. That—that…jerk!" If he'd said something, they could have patched up their relationship sooner. She would not have suffered for two days!

Larth laughed. "You have to be very specific in how you communicate to androids."

The door to the shop rattled. "Customers are getting restless," he said.

Breads, cakes, pies, muffins, and sweet rolls filled the racks and cases. Glasses and cups had been set beside the beverage dispenser and the coffee maker. They still had a lot to talk about, but the customers were getting antsy, and although they couldn't hear, they could see everything through the window. "Maybe we should let the customers in before they get too impatient and we lose them?"

"In a sec. We're not quite ready." He dashed behind the counter, returning with an apron. He slipped it over her head and tied it behind her back. "Now, we're ready."

She fingered the lettering. Prula's Bakery. She would have been okay with the old name, but the gesture meant a lot. She smiled at him. "You let them in, and I'll put the coffee on."