The Point of No Return The bakery kitchen was still warm from the ovens, the scent of vanilla and yeast clinging to the air. Becca scrubbed the counter with unnecessary force when the bell above the door chimed. She didn’t turn around. “You’re early.” Marlon locked the door behind him, flipping the sign to...
Double Icing – 10
The Weight of Silence Marlon’s apartment smelled of coffee and cinnamon. Chelsea had gone all out. Pancakes stacked high, fresh fruit, even a vase with a single sunflower plucked from the bodega downstairs. She beamed as he stepped inside, her smile so hopeful it made his chest ache. She was wearing his shirt, the...
Double Icing – 9
The Crumbling She grabbed him by the collar, leading him into his bedroom. “I know you can’t believe your luck.” She loosened three buttons on his shirt. Then she started kissing him again while twisting his nipples. This time, he resolved to look alive. But she didn’t stay on his lips for long. She...
Double Icing – 8
The Walk of Shame Daybreak in Becca’s house bled through the curtains, painting her bedroom in pale gold. Marlon held his breath as he slid out from under the sheets, moving with the precision of a man defusing a bomb. Don’t wake her. Don’t fucking wake her. He grabbed his shirt from the floor,...
Double Icing – 7
Liquid Courage The bar was dim, sticky with spilled beer and the weight of Marlon’s confusion. He slumped over his fourth whiskey, ice long melted. “Can I call her now?” Marlon leaned towards Becca. Becca leaned into him, “I know it’s hard to resist, but this is when she needs space.” “I just want...
Double Icing – 6
Becca’s Battle Plan By morning the next day, Becca was wrist-deep in fondant when Marlon slid into the bakery’s kitchen, looking like a man on a mission. She didn’t even glance up. “You’re wearing cologne. And you ironed your shirt. Who are you?” Marlon groaned, “Shut up. I need your help.” She finally looked...
Double Icing – 5
The Waiting Game The bakery bell jingled as Marlon stepped inside, his usual confident stride replaced by something more hesitant. Becca glanced up from frosting a cupcake, her eyebrow quirking. Becca: “Wow. You actually combed your hair.” Marlon ran a self-conscious hand through it. “Shut up. Is Chelsea here?” Becca smirked. “Nope. Took the...
Double Icing – 4
The Budget & The Broken Heart The bakery was quiet, the early-morning light softening the edges of the stainless-steel counters. Chelsea had spread the budget note across the table, her fingers tapping impatiently next to a highlighted column on her laptop. Marlon, in a crisp ironed stripped shirt, stood across from her, his usual...
Double Icing – 3
The 12-Foot Problem Becca dug her fork into her kale salad like it had personally offended her. Chelsea scrolled through their client’s email on her phone, zooming in on the venue blueprint. “Okay,” Chelsea said, “the stage is here, and they want the cake centered, which means we’ll need a scaffold to assemble it...
Double Icing – 2
The Excuses We Make Sunlight spilled through the bakery’s front windows, casting a honeyed glow over the display case. The ladies had just finished a series of meeting with three potential clients, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Becca wiped down the counter with more force than necessary, her back to Chelsea, who was...