Elin had just seen her last customer out, her polite smile lingering until the door shut and the bell fell silent. The quiet that followed was the kind she loved. Soft, familiar, filled only with the hum of the refrigerator and the faint tapping of the cooling pipes behind the counter. She let out a slow breath, her shoulders sinking with relief.
It had been a long day. Her wrists ached, her eyes were dry from the oven's heat, but she didn't mind. Busy meant peace. Busy meant she could keep her thoughts in order, keep everything that had happened sealed behind the rhythm of work.
She reached for the cloth and began to wipe the glass counter, already rehearsing what she'd make for tomorrow's display. Then the doorbell chimed again.
Her body tensed.
She turned, expecting perhaps a late customer or a friend who had forgotten something.
It was Sebastian Kaisen.
HE stepped inside, moving like he owned the place, like the whole world had bent to allow him this moment. He wore that same easy confidence she remembered all too well — a crisp shirt with the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins along his forearms. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he had run a hand through it moments before stepping inside.
He looked composed.
Maybe a little too composed for her liking.
When his eyes met hers, she forced herself to look away.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice low but firm, a tremor she tried to mask lurking beneath the words.
Sebastian's smirk widened, but his eyes never lost their intensity.
"Afternoon," he said casually, as though her words were a minor irritation rather than a boundary. "Busy day?"
Elin felt her throat go dry. She straightened, gripping the broom tightly, her knuckles turning white. "We're closing soon."
"I'll be quick." He smiled faintly and came closer, stopping just short of the counter. "I won't keep you long."
The scent of his cologne drifted between them, crisp citrus with a mix of cedar wood.
Elin turned away, reaching for the cloth she'd left by the register, using the motion to hide the sudden tremor in her hand. She had also hoped he'd take the hint.
"What can I get for you?" she asked, her voice even, though it quivered slightly under the weight of his gaze.
Sebastian leaned against the glass display. His reflection in the glass caught the soft glow from the lights above, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw. "You've been avoiding me."
Her hand froze mid-wipe. "I've been busy," she said quietly.
"I noticed." His voice was soft, but there was a current under it—something unspoken that pressed against her skin. "No calls, no messages. I must've done something truly unforgivable to deserve silence."
Elin swallowed hard. "There's nothing to talk about."
When she finally looked up, his gaze had dipped—tracing the delicate curve of her throat, the collar of her shirt, and stopping. His eyes darkened, just slightly, and his jaw tightened, a small muscle flickering near his temple.
The shift was subtle but unmistakable.
"Looks like someone else has been keeping you busy too."
The cloth in her hand stilled. Her breath caught before she could disguise it.
When she met his eyes again, the smirk was gone. His expression had settled into something unreadable, something colder. His voice dropped, almost a murmur. "That wasn't there before."
Elin blinked, confused, until she felt it—the faint tenderness at the side of her neck. Her hand flew up, brushing against the small bruise she hadn't thought about all day. Axton's mark.
Heat flooded her face.
"It's none of your business," she said, though the words came out softer than she meant, lacking the bite she wanted them to have.
He laughed softly. A single breath of disbelief. "None of my business?"
Sebastian straightened, closing the distance between them with unhurried steps. He didn't touch her, but he didn't need to. The air itself thickened with the weight of him.
She straightened her spine, refusing to let her nerves show. "You should go."
He didn't move.
"You think you can shut me out that easily?" His voice was low, coaxing, too intimate for the space between them. "You disappear without a word, then let someone else put their hands on you?"
Her breath faltered. "Sebastian, stop."
He laughed once, a short, humourless sound. "You think that's what this is? Me being unreasonable?" He looked at her again, slower this time, eyes dragging over her face with a mixture of disbelief and restrained anger. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to look at me again."
Elin's pulse thrummed in her ears. She took a step back, trying to breathe through the tightness in her chest. "You're crossing a line."
He smiled faintly. It wasn't warm. "I crossed it the moment you stopped answering me."
She tried to keep her tone steady. "You don't own me, Sebastian."
He stilled.
Something in his expression flickered—hurt, maybe, but buried under the quiet burn of frustration. "You say that like I ever tried to," he said softly. "Like I didn't give you every reason to stay."
"You gave me reasons to leave."
The words left her mouth before she could think.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator behind her.
Sebastian's eyes darkened. "Is that what he told you?"
Her brows furrowed. "What?"
He stepped closer again, closing the distance she'd created. The counter no longer felt like a barrier. "Axton," he said quietly, his gaze dropping again to her neck. "You think he'll stay when he gets bored? You think he'll care half as much as I did?"
"Sebastian—"
"I asked myself why you stopped talking to me." His voice softened, but the restraint in it made her skin prickle. "I thought maybe I'd said something. Maybe I pushed too far. But now I see..."
He exhaled through his nose, the faintest trace of a bitter smile curving his lips.
"You were just looking for someone easier to deal with."
Her throat tightened. "That's not fair."
Sebastian's laugh broke through the still air, low and bitter. "You think that's what this is? Me being unreasonable?"
Elin's pulse quickened. "You're not listening."
"Oh, I'm listening." He stepped closer, his tone softening in that dangerous way of his.
The air in the bakery had turned heavy. The smell of sugar and coffee no longer felt comforting; it pressed against Elin's chest, making every breath shallow.
Sebastian hadn't moved since his last words, but his gaze hadn't softened either. He looked like a man standing at the edge of something he wasn't sure he could pull back from.
"You know what I don't understand?" he said after a long silence, his voice quiet, steady, too controlled. "You act like I'm the one who crossed a line, but I didn't do anything you didn't want."
Her pulse jumped. "Don't twist this."
He took a slow step forward, the light from the window catching the sharp line of his jaw. "That night in my car—you kissed me back."
Elin froze. The room seemed to tilt.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn't find her voice. "Sebastian," she warned, her tone thin and shaking, "stop it."
He didn't. His eyes glinted, sharp and searching. "You did. You let me touch you. You wanted it."
"That was a mistake."
"Does he even know you kissed me that night in the car?"
The words hit like a slap.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Sebastian—"
But the bell above the door chimed.
Both their heads turned.
Axton stood in the doorway, frozen mid-step. The fading light outside haloed him in gold and shadow. His expression was unreadable for a moment until his eyes shifted from Sebastian to her.
And then she saw it. The realization. The quiet fracture.
Elin's heart stopped.
Sebastian's gaze flicked to Axton and back again. A slow, amused smile touched his mouth, deliberate and cruel. "Oh," he murmured, tone deceptively light. "He didn't know."
Elin felt the blood drain from her face. "Axton, wait—"
Axton didn't move. His jaw tightened, the faintest muscle ticking along his cheek. The stillness in him was worse than anger; it was the kind that came before something broke.
Sebastian took a casual step back from the counter, his composure as smooth as ever. "My mistake," he said, his eyes never leaving Elin's face. "I assumed honesty was part of this... whatever you have."
Elin's voice trembled when she finally spoke. "That's not what you think—"
Axton's eyes met hers. There was no heat in them, only something dark and quiet, like a door closing. "When?"
Her heart thudded so hard she thought it might echo in the small space of the bakery. "Axton, wait—" she managed, but the words faltered and died.
Sebastian tilted his head, observing, almost amused. "Before she decided it didn't matter," he added casually, as if he were delivering a final, damning verdict.
Elin's hands trembled against the counter. "Stop it, Sebastian," she said, the warning sharp now, more urgent than before.
He arched a brow. "Why? He deserves to know, doesn't he?"
Axton took a step closer, his presence immediately commanding the space around him. The air between them thickened, taut and suffocating. "You should leave," he said calmly, but his tone carried the weight of restrained anger.
Sebastian did not budge. He let the words linger, savoring them. Then he leaned in slightly, close enough that the faintest brush of air from him reached her face. "Be careful with this one," he said, almost a whisper. "She has a habit of running when things get too real."
Elin's stomach dropped further. Her pulse raced. "Get out," she hissed, trying to assert some control over the chaos inside her chest.
Sebastian looked almost pleased by her tone. He stepped toward the door, pausing just beside Axton as he passed. "Oh, this is going to be so fun, Creighton," he murmured, voice low enough that Elin almost didn't catch it. Then he was gone, the bell chiming once more as the door swung shut behind him.
The silence he left behind was unbearable.
Her knees felt weak. She gripped the counter for support, her fingertips digging into the glass. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, each inhale shaky and uncertain. Her chest ached. She wanted to explain, to justify herself, but the words were trapped inside her, tangled and inaccessible.
"Axton," she whispered.
He didn't answer. His eyes lingered on her, then drifted to the counter where Sebastian had been standing moments ago. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but it cut straight through her.
"You kissed him."
She took a small step forward. "It wasn't like that."
"When?" he demanded, and the word was sharp, brief, like a knife.
She took a small step forward, desperation rising in her chest. "It was a mistake. I didn't mean for it to happen. I was... upset, and he took advantage of that moment. I never wanted it, Axton, please understand."
His gaze bore into her, searching.
"And you weren't going to tell me?" he asked quietly.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I didn't know how. I didn't want to hurt you. I just—" Her words broke, lost in the thick, heavy silence that followed.
Elin felt exposed, naked under his gaze, and the room seemed too small for the weight of everything unspoken.
"Didn't want to hurt me?" Axton's voice rose a little, tense, almost broken. "Do you even realize how much it hurts to find out like this? From someone else? From him?"
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Her chest tightened, every nerve screaming. "I panicked! I was afraid you'd leave if you knew, and—"
"Afraid I'd leave?" he cut in sharply, taking a step closer. His eyes were wide now, raw with a mix of pain and frustration. "Elin, I was already feeling guilty, already beating myself up because I haven't been there for you the way I should, and you... you kissed him?"
Her hands shook violently now, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. "I—Axton, it didn't mean anything!"
His expression faltered, caught between anger and longing, hurt and desire to reach out. His voice softened, almost a whisper, though it trembled with intensity. "It meant something to him, didn't it?"
Her chest tightened further, and she could only shake her head, panic making her voice higher, more frantic. "No, please, you have to believe me! I never—he—"
Axton ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "I trusted you, Elin. I've been trying so hard to fix things between us and... this?" He gestured vaguely toward where Sebastian had been standing. "This is what I walk into?"
Elin's hands flew to her face, tears spilling over as her chest heaved. "I panicked! I didn't know what to do! I thought... I thought you'd hate me if you knew. I wasn't thinking clearly—I just wanted to protect us, to protect you, and I messed everything up!"
He stepped closer, and the movement made her heart pound faster, the air between them thick with tension. His eyes softened for a split second, but the hurt didn't leave them. "Protect us?" he said quietly, his voice tight, raw. "By kissing him? That's your idea of protecting me?"
Elin shook her head violently, desperate. "No! I swear, Axton, it wasn't like that! I don't feel that way about him. I never have. You're the one I care about. I—" Her voice cracked, the panic clawing higher. "I just—I didn't know how to stop it from happening, and I didn't know how to tell you. Please, believe me!"
"You didn't think of me at all, did you?" His voice was quiet now, almost hollow, but it still cut through her like a blade.
Elin stepped forward, voice urgent, desperate. "I know! I know! And I'm so sorry, Axton. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like this. I—"
He cut her off, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know if sorry is enough," he muttered, voice low, ragged. "I don't even know if I can trust you right now."
Her hands fell from the counter. She felt exposed, raw, and desperate. "Axton, I love you. I didn't want to hurt you. Please, just let me explain. Let me fix this."
For a long, suffocating moment, he said nothing. The silence between them was heavy, almost tangible. His chest rose and fell sharply. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumped. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if trying to calm the storm inside him.
Finally, he opened them again, voice quieter, softer, though still edged with pain. "I... I don't know if I can just forgive this."
Elin's heart broke at the words. She took a tentative step forward. "Then let me prove it to you. Let me show you that you're the only one I care about. Please, Axton, don't shut me out."
His gaze softened fractionally, though the storm hadn't passed. His jaw remained tight, his eyes still flickering with hurt. "You... have a lot to explain, Elin. And I need time. But right now, I don't even know where we stand."
Tears streamed down her face. She reached out, but he didn't move closer. She had never felt so helpless, so desperate. The shop felt impossibly small, the air thick with the weight of their emotions.
Axton stepped toward the door. His hand hovered over the handle. "I... need to think," he said quietly. "I'll see you later."