Page 89 of Merry Fake Bride

“Honey, the contract you both signed about this place surely protects you from any emotional backlash from him if things did go awry. But you don’t know they will.”

My attention drops to the ice skates. “I didn’t know with Axel, either.”

“Do you fear he’s the same?” she asks softly.

I nod and suddenly, tears burn at the corners of my eyes.

“I don’t mean to paint him with the same brush, but I can’t help it. Every time I think about what could be between us, I’m reminded of—” My throat closes and the words don’t come.

“I can’t tell you what to do, my dear,” Mom says, her words filled with a loving warmth, “but you’re not alone this time. Your father and I are here. And Kairo… he strikes me as a good man. I think he would understand if he knew the truth. You deserve to be happy, my darling.”

“He doesn’t deserve someone like me.”

She pulls me into a gentle hug and buries her glitter-covered face into my curls.

“My darling. It’s Christmas. Maybe Kairo is exactly the healing miracle you deserve, hmm?”

23

KAIRO

“This is my first bake sale!” A toothy grin smeared in icing stares up at me from about knee height, and a sticky, icing-covered fist seeks out my leg, which I avoid with a subtle sidestep.

“Mine too, kiddo,” I reply with a smile, peering down at the small child over the edge of my scarf.

He’s tucked into a puffer jacket so thick that he’s almost rotund. Both arms stick out in opposite directions and one good, strong gust of wind will surely send him rolling down the road like an escaped cranberry. “Are you lost?”

He nods, sticking his sticky fist into his mouth, and the excited spark in his eyes immediately dies. “Mommy said she’d come back.”

“Did she tell you to wait here?”

He shakes his head.

“Where did she tell you to wait?” I drop to my knees, ignoring how the bitter snow bites through my jeans, and become eye level with the child.

“Uhm…” As he licks his fingers, he gazes around at the sea of people swarming the bake sale.

Having never been to one, I had no idea what to expect and it’s far beyond anything I imagined over the past two days.

The bakery is the main hub, lit up like a Christmas tree with sparkling lights and tinsel wrapped around the sign and a beautiful, snowy display painted on the inside of the window.

When I arrived, Faith was painting the finishing touches to the Santa decal on the door, which remains permanently open as the bakery sale spills out into the street.

Tents and canopies line the bakery, which is adjacent to the cafe across the street.

The cafe also has its door open, providing customers with hot drinks while they browse the baked delicacies on display.

Devon and her family have really outdone themselves, and I can’t quite fathom how such a small team baked such an expansive list of desserts, cakes, and biscuits in such a short time.

My favorite stall is definitely the perishable stall where cream cakes stack over one another, teasing me with their snowy mountain peak designs.

“Hey.” Without touching him, I lean forward to get the child’s attention. “Where did your mommy ask you to wait?”

He turns back to me and his face immediately crumples. “I don’t know!”

His wailing starts soft, but it quickly pitches into a heartbroken realization that he has no idea where his mom is.

My heart clenches in my chest and as the crowd surges, I ignore his sticky hands and sweep him up into my arms.