Alyssa's Point Of View
Bitter Truths and Sweet Lies
The buzz of the intercom shattered the silence of my apartment, making me jump. I glanced at the clock on my oven - 12:17 AM. Who on earth would be buzzing my door at this hour?
I padded across the hardwood floor, my fuzzy socks sliding a little with each step. The events of the night swirled in my head like an unfinished cake batter - that kiss with Sage.
My lips still tingled at the memory, and I hated myself for it.
Reaching the intercom, I pressed the button, my voice coming out more uncertain than I'd like. "Hello?"
"Alyssa," came the reply, and my heart did a traitorous little flip in my chest. "It's me. Sage. Can we... can we talk? Please?"
I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool wall. Of course it was Sage. Because apparently, the universe hadn't thrown enough curveballs at me tonight.
Part of me wanted to ignore him, to crawl back into bed and pretend this whole night had been nothing but a bad dream.
But a smaller, more insistent part - the part that still remembered what it felt like to be loved by Sage Holloway - wouldn't let me.
With a sigh that felt like it came from the very depths of my soul, I pressed the button to unlock the front door. "Come up," I said, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.
I looked down at myself - oversized Maple Grove High sweatshirt, ironically, it had been Sage's once upon a time, sleep shorts, and those ridiculous fuzzy socks Raine had given me for Christmas.
Not exactly how I'd choose to face my ex after four years, but it was too late to change now.
As I waited for Sage to climb the stairs, I paced my small living room, fingers twisting nervously in the hem of my sweatshirt. The room, like the rest of my apartment, was a reflection of me - cozy and warm, with splashes of color here and there.
Baking books lined the shelves, interspersed with framed photos of friends and family. A half-finished painting of Sweet Dreams sat on an easel in the corner - a project Raine had started but never quite gotten around to finishing.
The knock on the door came all too soon. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before opening it.
And there he was.
Sage Holloway, looking unfairly handsome even at this ungodly hour. His dark hair was tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly - a nervous habit I remembered all too well.
His blue eyes, always so expressive, were a storm of emotions I couldn't quite decipher.
For a moment, we just stood there, drinking each other in. Four years suddenly felt like both an eternity and no time at all.
"Hi," he said finally, his voice soft and uncertain.
"Hi," I replied, hating how my own voice trembled slightly.
Another beat of silence. Then, remembering myself, I stepped back. "You might as well come in," I said, my tone cooler now. "I'd rather not have this conversation in the hallway."
Sage nodded, stepping inside. As he passed, I caught a whiff of his cologne - the same one he'd always worn, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him. The familiarity of it hit me like a punch to the gut.
I closed the door and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. "So," I said, aiming for nonchalance and probably missing by a mile. "You wanted to talk. Talk."
Sage ran a hand through his hair - yep, definitely still a nervous habit - and let out a shaky breath. "Alyssa, I... God, I don't even know where to start."
"How about with why you're here?" I suggested, unable to keep the bite out of my voice. "In my apartment. At midnight. After everything that happened tonight."
He winced at my tone, and a small, petty part of me was glad. Good. Let him feel a fraction of the pain I'd been carrying for four years.
"I'm here because..." he started, then stopped, seeming to gather his thoughts. "I'm here because I couldn't leave things the way they were. Not again."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how exactly were you planning to leave things four years ago? Because from where I'm standing, you did a pretty thorough job of it."
The words came out harsher than I'd intended, but I couldn't bring myself to regret them. All the hurt, all the anger I'd been bottling up for years was bubbling to the surface, and I was powerless to stop it.
Sage flinched as if I'd physically struck him. "I deserved that," he said quietly. "I deserved a lot worse, actually."
"Yeah, you did," I agreed, but some of the fight was leaving me. I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "Look, Sage, it's late. I've had a hell of a night. Can we just... I don't know, raincheck this conversation? Preferably for never?"
But Sage shook his head, a determined glint in his eye that I remembered all too well. It was the same look he'd get when trying to perfect a particularly tricky recipe.
"No," he said firmly. "No more running. No more avoiding. We need to talk about this, Alyssa. About us."
"There is no 'us'," I snapped, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "You made sure of that when you walked out that door four years ago."
Sage took a step towards me, his eyes pleading. "I know I hurt you, Alyssa. God, I know that better than anyone. But please, just... hear me out? Give me a chance to explain?"
I wanted to say no. I wanted to throw him out and go back to my life, the life I'd carefully rebuilt without him. But something in his voice, in the way he looked at me like I was still the most important thing in his world, made me hesitate.
"Fine," I said finally, moving to sit on my small sofa. "You've got five minutes. Make them count."
Sage nodded, relief written on his face. He sat down on the other end of the sofa, careful to maintain a respectful distance between us. For a moment, he just stared at his hands, seemingly gathering his thoughts.
"I was scared," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I left... I was terrified, Alyssa. Terrified of failing, of not being good enough. For you, for our dreams, for everything we'd planned."
I scoffed, but he pressed on. "I know it sounds stupid now. But back then... We were so young, Alyssa. We had all these big dreams, and I just... I felt like I needed to prove myself. To become someone worthy of you, of the life we wanted."
"You were always worthy," I said softly, the words escaping before I could stop them. "I never needed you to prove anything."
Sage's eyes met mine, a world of regret in their blue depths. "I know that now. But back then... I was an idiot. A scared, insecure idiot who thought running away was the answer."
He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I told myself it was temporary. That I'd go to culinary school, make a name for myself, and come back to sweep you off your feet. But then Sugar Rush happened, and suddenly I was caught up in this whirlwind of success and expansion and... I lost sight of what really mattered."
I listened silently, my heart aching with every word. Part of me wanted to hold onto my anger, to the protective shell I'd built around myself.
But another part, a part I thought I'd buried long ago, recognized the sincerity in Sage's voice.
"Why did you come back?" I asked, my voice small. "Why now?"
Sage's answer was immediate, his eyes never leaving mine. "Because I never stopped loving you, Alyssa. Not for a single day. I came back because Maple Grove, this town, you... it's home. It's always been home. And I was tired of running from it."
His words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and blinked them back furiously. I wouldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of him.
"You can't just... you can't just say things like that," I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. "You can't waltz back into my life after four years and expect everything to be okay. It doesn't work like that, Sage."
He nodded, his expression pained but understanding. "I know. I don't expect you to forgive me, Alyssa. Hell, I haven't even forgiven myself. But I needed you to know the truth. I needed you to know that leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life, and I'll spend every day trying to make it right if you'll let me."
I stood up abruptly, needing to put some distance between us. My emotions were a tangled mess, anger and hurt warring with a longing I thought I'd long since buried.
"And what about Sugar Rush?" I asked, latching onto the one concrete thing I could focus on. "You're still my competition, Sage. Or did you conveniently forget that part?"
Sage stood too, his expression earnest. "Sugar Rush doesn't matter. None of it matters, Alyssa. I'll sell my stake, walk away from all of it if that's what it takes."
I stared at him, disbelief warring with a traitorous hope in my chest. "You'd do that? Just... give it all up?"
"In a heartbeat," he said, and the certainty in his voice shook me to my core. "Alyssa, don't you see? All the success, all the money... it means nothing if I don't have you to share it with."
I turned away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. My eyes fell on a photo on my bookshelf - Sage and me at our high school graduation, arms around each other, faces split with identical grins. We'd been so young, so full of hope and dreams.
For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to let him back in. To forgive, to try again. The thought was tempting, so tempting that it terrified me.
But then I remembered the nights I'd spent crying myself to sleep, the way my heart had shattered when he left, the years it took to piece myself back together.
And I knew, with a certainty that was both painful and liberating, that I couldn't do it again.
"No," I said softly, then again with more force. "No, Sage. I can't."
He took a step towards me, his eyes pleading. "Alyssa, please-"
I held up a hand, stopping him. "You don't understand. It's not that I don't want to. God, part of me wants nothing more than to believe you, to try again. But I can't. I won't."
Sage's face fell, a mix of pain and understanding crossing his features. "I hurt you too much," he said, not a question but a statement.
I nodded, feeling tears start to fall despite my best efforts. "You did. And it's not just about the pain, Sage. It's about trust. You were my best friend, my partner, my everything. And you walked away like it was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing," he protested weakly. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done."
"Maybe," I conceded. "But you still did it. And I spent years putting myself back together. I can't risk falling apart again."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I needed to say next. "I forgive you, Sage. I think I forgave you a long time ago, even if I didn't want to admit it. But forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean we can go back."
Sage looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have stopped him. Instead, he just nodded, a single tear escaping down his cheek.
"I understand," he said softly. "I don't like it, but I understand. You deserve better than what I did to you."
We stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of what could have been hanging heavy between us.
Finally, Sage spoke again. "What happens now? With Sweet Dreams and Sugar Rush, I mean."
I hadn't thought that far ahead, but I knew one thing for certain. "We compete," I said firmly. "Fairly and honestly. No more secrets, no more sabotage. May the best bakery win."
A ghost of a smile crossed Sage's face. "Just like old times in the school kitchen, huh?"
Despite everything, I found myself smiling back. "Yeah, I guess so. Except this time, I plan on winning."
Sage nodded, accepting the challenge. He moved towards the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. "For what it's worth, Alyssa, I really am sorry. And I'm glad I came back, even if it's not the outcome I hoped for. Seeing you again... it reminded me of why I fell in love with baking in the first place."
As he opened the door, I called out, "Sage?" He turned back, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "I'm glad you came back too," I said softly. "Goodbye, Sage."
"Goodbye, Alyssa," he replied, and then he was gone.
I locked the door behind him, leaning against it as the tears I'd been holding back finally fell freely. It hurt, saying goodbye to the possibility of 'us'.
But beneath the pain, I felt something else - pride, strength, and the certainty that I'd made the right choice.