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I slammed the door behind me as Liam stormed off towards the kitchen, throwing his boots in the hall on the way.

I followed after him and pointed at one of the barstools. “Liam, sit down. Now.”

“Mum, please.” He threw himself onto the kitchen stool.

“I don’t understand what came over you to act that way. That’s not how I raised you.” I remained as calm as I possibly could. His face fell faster with each passing second.

“But I don’t like him.” He scoffed.

“Who? You don’t like who?” I knew who he meant. Daniel had explained Beckett was helping out for a few weeks. It was a blow and a half to me, but I was trying not to let it affect me.

“Beckett Ashmore,” Liam said. “He thinks he knows everything when really he’s not even that good.”

“Liam, that’s enough now. I won’t tolerate this behaviour or you talking about him like that.” My calm voice grew sharper, almost shapeshifting from the sweetness it usually held when I spoke to Liam. Something between shame and embarrassment followed behind it, but my son couldn't see that. Not necessarily because he said what he did but because it made me question the one thing that came up for me from time to time, which was whether or not I was doing a good enough job as a single mum.

I heard the front door open and close from the hall, but that didn’t interfere with my conversation with Liam.

“Liam, do I make myself clear?” I asked with a firm tone.

“Woah, what’s going on in here?”

“Uncle Mike!” Liam’s face lit up the second he saw my brother's friend. He had just as much influence on Liam growing up as my family did, which was why Liam referred to him like he was family. “Uncle Harry!” He beamed at my brother.

“What’s going on is that my son decided to bring his attitude to training. He was sent home and is also benched for Saturday’s game.”

“Buddy, what was that for?” Mike relaxed on the stool next to Liam, as Harry’s confused gaze met my much angrier one.

“Football is good. I’m good. Why did he have to stick his nose into it?” Liam huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

Mike glanced over in my direction. My expression was enough to silence whatever he was about to say.

“Sweetheart, Beckett is helping out until he’s fit enough to play again, and if you want to continue to be on the pitch, you’re going to need to show him—and Daniel—the respect they deserve. ”

“Fine. But I’m not saying sorry.” Liam scoffed, and I knew he meant every single word, but I wasn’t about to let that slide.

“Yes, I think you’ll find you are.” I swiped his iPad off the corner of the kitchen island before he could grab it. I held it up. “As for this, you can say goodbye to it until you find the respect I’ve taught you.”

“But mum…” he moaned with a frown.

“Don’t ‘but’ me. My decision is final. Now, go to your room.”

“Fine.” He slipped off the stool and darted in the direction of his bedroom. I’d never seen him move so fast. Part of me felt bad, but the majority of me knew that I didn’t bring him up that way, which was why I wasn’t going to tolerate it.

“Don’t you think you were a little harsh?” Mike said after Liam’s door slammed shut, making Harry wince. I didn’t know if it was the slamming of the door or Mike’s question but Harry’s demeanor shifted.

“With all due respect, Mike, he’s my son. I brought him up better than that, and he knows it.”

“But it’s Beckett. Don’t you feel a little proud of him?” He gave me a half smile, which, to be honest, pissed me off a little.

“At this moment in time—no, I don’t. I’m disappointed because he doesn’t know Beckett or our history, so he had no valid reason to act the way he did.” I walked over to the kettle and flicked it on. Hot tea brought me comfort that not a lot of other things did. It was something I had grown to rely on daily. “I appreciate you being there for Liam over the years, but his behaviour is not up for discussion.”

“As much as I hate Beckett, I agree with Em. Liam is her son, Mike, not yours.” Harry nodded at me with a supportive smile.

I always put my foot down when it came to Liam, and today was no different. I worked hard raising him as a single mum without a ton of help, and I didn’t need someone overstepping and giving him the impression that it was okay to behave the way he did.

I gathered three mugs and tea bags, making quick work in preparing mine and Harry’s the way we liked it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to encroach upon your parenting or undermine you,” he held up his hand in an apology. “It’s just?—”

“Tea?” I asked, cutting him off.

“I’d love one.” He nodded as I prepared his cup.

Mike stayed with Harry for a while, the three of us making general chit-chat before the pair of them had to leave. I walked them out to the hallway, remaining at Harry’s side until we reached the door.

“You alright if we head off then?” Harry asked, placing his hand gently on my shoulder.

“You know me, always alright.” I half smiled, feeling neither here nor there right now.

“Harry, can you give me a second with your sister?” Mike asked without taking his eyes off me. Something never sat right with me when he looked at me like I was some sort of possession. I’d even go as far as saying it made my skin crawl.

“What’s up?” I questioned, arching my brow.

“So, I was wondering, can I take you out this weekend?”

“You already know my answer to that, Mike. I’m not interested in dating.”

“Because of him?” He raised his brow in question. Almost like he was silently asking if it had anything to do with Beckett even though he knew it did. Everyone knew.

“It doesn’t matter what the reason is, I just don’t want to date.” I held the door open for him, hoping he’d leave without another word.

“You know I don’t plan on giving up, right?”

“Bye, Mike.”

I could have sworn he rolled his eyes, but I didn’t care as I shut the door behind him. As I watched him walk down the path leading to his car, my hand automatically went up to the whisk necklace I wore everyday. It may have been hidden beneath my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. It was the last thing Beckett had ever given me. He knew how much I loved baking, and the whisk charm was quirky and the perfect thing to describe who a part of me was.

I still remembered the day we met as if it were yesterday.

Ten years ago…

I was sitting at the breakfast bar, enjoying my daily chat before school with my dad when Harry came bounding into the kitchen and shoved toast in his mouth before darting to answer the door.

“I can’t quite work that boy out sometimes.” My dad chuckled.

“Me either,” I finished off my cup of tea. On my last sip, I almost choked, the sight of Harry’s friend strolling into the kitchen behind Harry stunning me.

“Em, Dad, this is Beckett. He just moved here.” Harry's entire face lit up, his brown eyes almost glimmering in the kitchen light. If there was one thing about my brother, it was that he always thrived when it came to socialising. He made making friends look like a walk in the park.

“Nice to meet you, lad. Do you want some breakfast, or are you alright?”

“I’m good. I just ate.” Beckett spoke to my dad, but his deep hazel eyes remained firmly on me. Something that made my cheeks flush. He nodded his chin at me “Em, is it?”

“Y-yeah, Emily.” I stuttered.

“Nice to meet you, Emily.” He flashed me a heart stopping smile, and I knew from that moment I was a goner.

His dark blond curls flopped over his forehead, just brushing the tops of his brows, slightly tousled in a way that looked effortless—like he’d just rolled out of bed and still managed to look annoyingly perfect. There was something about him that pulled me in without trying.

Beckett tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “Emily, do you need a ride to school too? My mum is waiting outside, and there’s enough room for one more.”

“Would that be okay?” I asked him, my gaze temporarily shifting to my dad’s. He gave me his approval in the form of a thumbs up. “She won’t mind?”

“He wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t fine,” Harry interrupted on an eye roll. “I call shotgun!”

“You can’t call shotgun,” I told him. “It’s his mum’s car.” I scoffed, throwing my bag on my shoulder as I stood from the table.

“I can and I did. You snooze, you lose, guys.”

“I don’t mind keeping you company in the back,” Beckett muttered as I felt my cheeks redden slightly.

I made my way out to the car, and true to his word, he kept me company in the back, paying me more attention than I anticipated, while Harry sat up front and tinkered with the radio.

“I’ve never had a mate with a sister before,”Beckett murmured beside me. As he shifted in his seat, his leg bumped into mine—just a soft brush, but it sent a spark straight through me. He didn’t move it right away, and neither did I. I tried to play it cool, staring out the window like my heart wasn’t suddenly doing backflips. But I could feel the warmth of his leg against mine, steady and close, and it made it very hard to focus on anything else.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I teased, tucking my phone into my bag.

“Trust me, I’m not disappointed.” He whispered loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough for my brother not to.

“Oh…” I must have sounded so incredibly awkward not knowing what to respond with, but I wasn’t used to male attention, especially not someone like Beckett’s, who made my heart flutter every time he so much as looked at me.

His mum pulled the car to a stop and said, “Here we are! Have a lovely day you three. I’ll pick you up from this same spot after school.”

“Cheers, Mum. See you later.”

“Yeah, see ya, Mrs. Ashmore.” Harry smiled as he climbed out of the passenger seat and before shutting the door.

Beckett held the door open for me as I clutched my bag close to me and followed behind. As soon as he closed the door, Harry pulled him away. It was the last I saw of Beckett that day until his mum picked us up later that afternoon.

Later that evening, I was icing a cake for a local shop owner's birthday party when my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, caller ID telling me it was my mum. I knew the exact reason for this call, she’d be making sure I was on time with the cake. As if I’d ever forget or be delayed.

“Hi, mum.” I smiled.

“Darling, how’s the cake coming along? Will it be done by tomorrow?”

I knew it.

“It’ll be finished by tonight, don’t worry.” I smiled to myself at how worked up she got when she wasn’t in control.

“So, Mike told me about what happened with Liam during training.” She sighed from the other end.

“Of course he did. It’s not his bloody business!” I sighed, that heavy sensation of betrayal filling me over Mike’s gossiping.

Mum snickered through the line. “I honestly don’t know how that man dared to show his face around here again after what he did to you.”

“Mum, just drop it. I don’t need to talk or think about him, okay?” I sat on the stool beside me, clutching my phone tightly as images of Beckett and me swarmed my head. “It’s not like he’s going to stay anyway.”

“I certainly hope he doesn’t. He was quick enough to leave the first time around. Let’s just hope he does the exact same thing again. It would save us all a lot of grief.”

“Hmm.” My mum had the tendency to trash talk Beckett. I didn’t exactly blame her, but every time she did it, my heart cracked a little more. She didn’t realise that it hurt me. I’d taken it for years, every single one of my family, my mum, dad, and brother made their upset and hatred for Beckett known. None of it made it any easier, which was exactly why I was ready to end the call so soon. “I’m going to go and finish this off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling.” She responded. “Oh, and if you need help with the cake tomorrow, call your dad.”

“Will do.” I removed the phone from between my ear and shoulder and hung up, letting myself forget everything that played on my mind as I continued doing what I loved.

Baking, for me, was never just about mixing ingredients or following a recipe. It had always been something that brought order to the chaos of my thoughts. Over the years, it had become my getaway, something I could lose myself in. Baking was something I knew like the back of my hand, my one true passion and joy. I’d always have to thank Beckett for the push he gave me all those years ago.

Ten years ago…

“Chase your dreams.” He smiled across the kitchen island.

“Like you’re chasing yours?” I asked while icing my newest creation for him to try.

“We can chase them together, Em.” His smile widened. “We can have it all together.”

He scooped a blob of icing onto his finger before wiping it on the tip of my nose with a chuckle.