Ava’s POV

The morning after our fight, my chest still ached. I kept replaying everything I said to Logan. My anger had been sharp, my words laced with venom, and though I told myself he deserved it, a part of me knew I hadn’t just cut him,I’d shattered something that was barely holding on.

He looked… broken when he stormed away. But I was hurting too, wasn’t I?

The bakery buzzed around me, I refused to go to the office. Flour streaked my apron, and the smell of cinnamon ...