by Tabatha Kiss
When the police cruiser dropped us off here, I felt a hard twinge deep in my gut. Luckily, the fire didn’t have a chance to spread but the bakery is almost unrecognizable. I feel like a piece of myself is gone and I don’t just mean my favorite go-to breakfast place.
Who knows when I’ll see Vincent again.
His sister assured me that she would do everything she could for him but I could see the fear in her eyes when she said it.
Tommy winces as he wraps his lips around the tip of his beer bottle. His chin is nearly sliced in half and all facial movement strikes him with severe pain but he’s been successfully drinking through it for the last hour and a half.
“Boy, do we know how to take a vacation, eh?” he jokes, slurring his vowels.
I chuckle, staring into the bottom of my glass. “Yeah. We do.”
He glances over his shoulder and out the window. “Sun’s coming out…”
The streets of Boston shine a slight off-blue color, signaling the start of a changing world. Soon, the city will wake up. The people will get ready for work and start their daily commutes. Some of them will stop by this street to pick up their favorite breakfast pastry but they’ll keep driving when they see what’s happened here. They’ll shrug and find a new routine and sooner or later, they’ll forget that place ever existed but I won’t. I’ll feel it every single day.
I pour the rest of my drink down my throat, missing him even more.
A year. We waited a whole year to admit our feelings to each other. Then, we only had two days together before happiness was torn from us but I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. I would rather have spent forty-eight hours of my life loving Vincent Silva than never at all.
The back exit opens and closes.
The sound echoes in from the storeroom, completely stopping my heart. My life flashes before my eyes. Fear takes me over and one look at Tommy shows the same terror on his face.
The Shank family probably sent someone to finish us off. People like them could easily make it happen. They wouldn’t let anyone get away with what happened tonight.
Or maybe it’s Vincent.
It’s a fleeting thought but I latch onto it with all my strength. Maybe it is. Maybe he did get out and he came here to find me.
We slide off our stools together with racing hearts and Tommy picks his up off the floor to hold out in front of him. I stay beside him as we slowly inch towards the back room.
“Hello?” Tommy says, his voice slurred and twitchy. “I have a weapon and I will use it!”
I draw in my courage and poke my head into the storeroom with fearful excitement.
Tommy deflates and drops the stool to the floor. “Jesus, Johnson. What the hell are you doing here?”
I let my breath out slowly and slink back into the bar, listening as they bicker at each other.
“I’m making a delivery!”
“You didn’t get my message? We’re closed.”
“I didn’t get no message, man.”
“Bullshit.”
I pick up the bottle, prepared to pour myself another drink but I pause instead.
A seething dread spreads across my senses. Life goes on. The world never stops turning. Deliveries keep getting made as scheduled. Everything keeps going on as normal without him.
Without Vincent Silva.
Tears fill my eyes and I reach for my things. “Hey, Tommy, I’m gonna run, okay?”
He comes back to the bar. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You okay to drive?”
“No,” I say, keeping my head down to hide the tears spilling down my face. “I’ll start walking and call a cab to pick me up.”
“Hey, Evey…”
I pause by the entrance. “Yeah?”
“Keep in touch, okay?”
I push open the door, barely holding back a sob before making it outside.
***
I don’t want to go home but I’ve nowhere else to go.
I step inside the quiet apartment building and make my way up the stairs. My body looks forward to sleep, bruised and exhausted from yesterday, but I wonder if sleep is even possible. The second I close my eyes, I’ll dream of him. Even now, I can sense him and the sweet home of Muffin Top. It’s all so real to me still. I can practically smell the fresh-brewed coffee and blueberry muffins in the air.
I take a deep breath of it and stop down the hall from my door.
I really can smell it.
It strengthens as I drift closer to my apartment. My heart races wild in my chest, once again clinging to a truth that’s not possible. A sound travels through the door. The hard clanging of metal pots and pans.
I throw open the door and step inside, walking directly into a wonderful cloud of sugary mayhem.
My jaw drops. “Vincent?”
He turns from my cabinets with two old skillets in his hands and smiles at me with devious eyes. “Hey, Evey.”
I rush towards him and throw my arms around him. He drops the pans on the counter and does the same, embracing me in his thick arms. For a second, I wonder if I really have succumbed to complete exhaustion and drifted into some vivid nightmare.
“What are you doing here?” I say into his chest.
His lips press into my head. “Where else would I be?”
I look up at him and he wipes my tears with his thumbs. “How?”
He smirks and kisses me, crushing his lips on mine and I suddenly don’t care anymore. He’s here with me now and that’s all that matters.
“Evey…” he whispers, taking a slow step back. “I have something very important I need to ask you.”
My heart clenches. “What?”
He releases me and grabs the skillet off the counter. “Where the hell did you get this crap? I mean, no one should be cooking with these.”
Laughter shakes my core. “Sorry…”
It slips from his fingers and he guides it down into the trash bag by his feet. “I’m going to need some real cookware around here. Later, we’re going shopping.”
I nod as my happiness swells. “All right.”
“You hungry?” he asks, turning around to invade a few more of my cabinets. “I’ve got your favorite in the oven now. Coffee’s ready, too.”
“Vincent.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He pauses and steps back over to me, smiling softly. “I love you, too.”
I bite my lip, holding fear at bay but it rises in me anyway. The cops. The Irish mob. His destroyed bakery. His past and our future. I have no idea what’s coming after this moment and that terrifies me. “Are we gonna be okay?”
Vincent takes my face in his hands again, staring down at me without an ounce of fear. “Yes,” he answers. “We’re gonna be just fine, Evey Ryan.”
He kisses me again, deep and true, and I can’t help but believe every word as I fall into his arms. Lust guides us together and we slide down the hall to my room, slinking past the forgotten drops of mobster blood and the splintered doorway.
I fall onto the bed and he follows me down. His lips never leave mine as his hands roam down my body, awakening every piece of me. I reach for his belt. He tears through the buttons on my blouse. Pure, unbridled passion drives us wild for each other. For our survival and a lifetime of love.
My oven timer dings from the kitchen and Vincent freezes. He lays his head against my chest and furrows his defeated brow. “Shit…”
I cup his face to hold him here. “Let them burn.”
He bites his lip, grinning wide before leaning in to kiss me even harder.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Evey
“Shit.”
I’m still pregnant.
I waddle out the bar’s back exit, dragging the trash bag behind me as I go with a shot glass full of liquor in my other hand. It’s four in the morning. I’m exhausted and annoyed as all hell. Every night I walk out here thinking that tomorrow’s the da
y I’ll finally pop but it hasn’t happened yet. This kid is officially overdue and I’m about ready to reach in there and yank him out myself.
The bakery exit opens and Vincent steps out with his own trash, looking refreshed and well-rested from a peaceful evening’s sleep.
“Hey.” He smiles but it quickly fades when he sees my face. “What is it? You okay?”
“Nine months… and thirteen days.”
His grin returns and he bends over to grab the trash from me. “Patience, Evey.”
“We are officially over patience at this point, Vin. Now, we’re angry. I’m actually starting to take it a little personally, to be honest…”
“He just needs a little more time in the oven,” he jokes, tossing the bags into the dumpster. “Get a nice golden brown. He’ll come out when he’s ready.”
“You know…” I glare at him. “I used to think your baking puns in relation to my uterus were cute and fun but now… I just hate you.”
He looks at the shot glass, crooking his brow at the blue-tinted liquid. “And what is that?”
I offer it to him. “New drink Tommy and I invented tonight. Give it a try.”
He fires it into his throat but his face instantly recoils as he swallows. “What the hell did I just put in my mouth?”
I grin. “It’s a Muffin Bomb!”
“A what?”
“Whiskey, a dollop of sweet and sour mix, a dash of hot sauce, all topped off with Blueberry Schnapps.”
He shakes his head. “That is horrendous.”
I scoff. “Not nearly as horrendous as your coconut cupcake.”
“Hey, people love my coconut cupcake,” he argues.
“Honey, no one loves your coconut cupcake.”
He feigns offense but can’t keep his lips from curling. “Evey, how about you stick to your booze and you leave the baking to me, all right?”
I smile. “I can live with that.”
He moves in for a kiss but pauses. “You’re not taste-testing these new shots yourself, right?”
“Of course not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Just Tommy.”
“Good.” His lips connect with my cheek. “You hungry?”
“Always.”
“Come on. I just took some muffins out.”
He holds open the door for me and I step up into the kitchen of the new and improved Muffin Top.
The assault on the bakery a year ago left it in pretty awful shape. Vincent saw the silver lining in that and shut it down for a while to do a bit of remodeling of the downstairs and the upstairs apartment… just in time for the second line on the pregnancy test to show up.
Bye bye, bachelor pad. Hello, paradise for three.
Granted, it’s a small paradise but we don’t need much and I’ve yet to grow tired of waking up to that smell wafting up the stairs every morning.
I really miss my morning coffee, though, so if this kid could hurry the hell up already, that’d be great…
Vincent slides a tray of muffins along the counter at me and my stomach growls.
I reach for one but think twice. “Eh, maybe I shouldn’t. Sugar before bed has been giving me heartburn lately.”
“Just one bite,” he says. “I’ll save the rest for you.”
I stare at it, weighing the pros and cons before I feel a harsh kick inside my belly. “Oh, wow…” I say, feeling my child’s foot tap my hand. “I guess he’s up for it.”
“That’s my boy.” He takes one off the tray. “Now, shut up and eat your muffin.”
“Okay, okay.” I take it from him and sink my teeth into the warm muffin top. My taste buds instantly explode with that juicy, blueberry flavor. “Damn, that’s a good muffin.”
Vincent takes the remaining muffins and walks the tray over to the cases by the register. “Anna called.”
“When?” I ask, chewing.
“Oh, about every two hours on the dot for the last three days.”
“Did you explain that no one is more impatient than I am right now?”
He chuckles as he loads the muffins into the case. “Yes, I did.”
“Good.”
“She’s just excited, Evey. Everyone is — even the customers.”
I pause and lick my lips. “Really?”
“I get about twenty questions about it every morning.”
“Well… next time, just send ‘em upstairs and they can watch the freak show live. Charge admission, too.”
“Evey…” He walks over and kisses my forehead. “He’ll come when he’s ready. For now, just try to relax. Maybe get started on maternity leave—”
“No,” I snap.
“You shouldn’t be working so hard right now anyway.”
I point a finger at him to shut him up. “I won’t sit upstairs and do nothing while I wait around to give birth. I’d go crazy from boredom.”
He sighs with a smile, backing down from a fight he knows he can’t win. “Okay.”
I think to abandon my muffin but I change my mind. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“Need help getting up there?”
“No, I’ll just take it slow,” I say. “Maybe it’ll induce labor or something…”
“I’ll be down here,” he says, “drinking battery acid to get this taste out of my mouth.”
I look over my shoulder at him, flashing a bit of attitude as I take an extra large victory bite out of my muffin. As I turn away, my teeth hit something hard and metal in my mouth. My tongue picks through the delicious mush of sugar and fruit to make out the shape of it.
It’s a ring.
Wait, it’s a ring?
I spit it out into my palm. A golden band. A bright, shimmering diamond—
Holy shit.
I spin around and gasp to see Vincent behind me, kneeling down on one knee.
“Vincent…”
He takes the ring from my hand and wipes it clean with his shirt before holding it out to me. “Evey Ryan…”
My jaw drops. “No way…”
“Will you marry me?”
“You baked it into my muffin top?! That’s my favorite part.”
“Mine, too,” he says, smiling. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I thought that the first time I saw you and I think that every morning when I wake up with you in my life.”
I gawk at him. “I could have choked to death, you know.”
“I know the Heimlich maneuver.”
“Well, that’s an odd precaution to take when planning a wedding proposal…”
“Evey… focus.”
I look at his chiseled face. Hard, yet playful. Soft, yet sure. “Are you serious?” I ask.
He takes my left hand and lines the ring up with my finger. “I am more serious about this than anything else in my entire life.” The ring slides on; a perfect fit. “Except maybe my son. I’m absolutely serious about being the best father I can possibly be and the first step for that is to make his mother my wife, so… Evey Ryan, will you—”
“No…” I go tense, feeling a sudden wave of pressure clenching my insides.
He blinks. “No?”
I lay a hand on my round stomach as the pain strikes. “Oh, no…”
“I can’t say I expected that answer…”
“No—” I hold my breath. “I mean, yes. Yes, I will happily marry you, but first, I think we need to go to the hospital.”
Vincent shoots up off his knee. “Really?”
I bite down, feeling the awkward trickle of fluid down my inner leg. “I’m pretty sure my water just broke.”
He stares at me with wide eyes, completely trapped in place. “Okay… what do—”
“Ow…” I say with quivering knees.
Vincent grabs my arm and leads me to the stool by the counter. “Okay…” He rushes to the ovens and turns them all off with a few quick flicks of his wrist. “I’ll go get your suitcase and leave Monica a message. Stay here.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not moving,” I say, wincing as another pain hits me.<
br />
He takes off and I reach into my pocket for my phone.
I call Tommy but it rings for a long time before he finally answers.
“What?”
“Don’t what me, Tommy. I’m in labor.”
He gasps. “Wait, really?”
“Yes.”
“But you were fine like an hour ago.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda how these things work.” I lay my left hand on my stomach, pausing as the diamond shimmers in the light. “Also, Vincent proposed to me.”
There’s a long pause. “The guy couldn’t have made an honest woman out of my sister before now?”
“Since when have I ever been an honest woman?”
“I stand corrected.”
My lips purse and I take in a fast, controlled breath, firing it back out just as quickly.
Tommy chuckles. “So, this is it, then? My nephew is coming today.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need me to be there or…?”
“No, get some sleep,” I tell him. “Come see us tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know it was happening.”
“Thanks, Evey… Uh…”
There’s another pause, this one heavier than the last. “What is it, Tommy?”
“Nothing, just…” He takes a breath. “Dad would have been happy and… really proud.”
The baby kicks my palm. “Yeah,” I say, tapping his foot. “You’re probably right. Goodnight, Tommy.”
“Goodnight, Evey. Congrats.”
Vincent charges down the stairs with my suitcase in hand and a look of panic on his perfect face. “Ready to go?”
I slide the phone back into my pocket, smiling at him with ecstatic tears in my eyes.
Vincent Silva. My hero. The father of my child. And now, my future husband.
What else don’t I know about him?
I have the rest of my life to find out.
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go have a baby.”
Epilogue
Vincent
I’m a father.
I’ve always wanted to be one but I could never quite imagine what it’d be like. Up until the moment he came out, I had no idea how much love I was capable of. I love my sister. I love Evey with my entire soul but I wasn’t prepared for this boy…