Sage's Point Of View
Memories of Everything We Used To Do
I stood outside Alyssa's apartment building, the cool night air doing little to clear my head. My heart felt like it had been put through a pastry sheeter, flattened and stretched beyond recognition.
I'd come here tonight with hope, with the foolish notion that maybe, just maybe, I could make things right. But Alyssa's words echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of the damage I'd done.
"I can't risk falling apart again."
God, what had I expected? That I could waltz back into her life after four years and she'd welcome me with open arms? I'd been an idiot, and now I was paying the price.
As I walked down the dimly lit street, memories of our shared past washed over me like waves. Every corner of this town held a piece of us, of the life we'd planned together.
There was the park where we'd shared our first kiss, the high school where we'd dreamed of opening our bakery, the old movie theater where we'd spend lazy Sunday afternoons.
I found myself at the door of The Rusty Nail, the local dive bar that had been our go-to spot for celebrating victories and drowning sorrows. It seemed fitting, somehow, that my feet had led me here.
The familiar creak of the door announced my entrance, and the smell of stale beer and deep-fried everything hit me like a comforting blanket.
The place hadn't changed a bit – same scuffed hardwood floors, same neon beer signs casting a soft glow over the patrons, same old jukebox in the corner playing country ballads.
"Well, I'll be damned," a gruff voice called out. "If it ain't Sage Holloway, back from the big city."
I turned to see Joe, the owner, wiping down the bar with a rag that had seen better days. Joe was a bear of a man, with a salt-and-pepper beard and arms covered in faded Navy tattoos.
His eyes, though, were kind, crinkling at the corners as he smiled at me.
"Hey, Joe," I said, sliding onto a barstool. "How's business?"
Joe shrugged, his massive shoulders rising and falling like mountains. "Can't complain. What'll it be? Still partial to that fancy craft beer?"
I shook my head. "Not tonight. Give me whatever's on tap."
Joe raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, filling a frosty mug and sliding it across the bar. I took a long pull, the bitter taste a fitting complement to my mood.
"So," Joe said, leaning on the bar. "Heard you're stirring up trouble at Sweet Dreams."
I winced. News traveled fast in a small town like Maple Grove. "Not intentionally," I muttered.
Joe nodded sagely. "Never is, son. But intentions don't count for much when hearts are involved."
I looked up at him, surprised. Joe had never been one for heart-to-hearts. He must have read the question in my eyes because he chuckled.
"What? Just 'cause I sling beer for a living doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about life," he said. "Been watching you kids grow up in this town. You and Alyssa... you two were something special."
"Yeah," I said softly. "We were."
Joe's eyes softened. "You really did a number on that girl when you left, Sage."
I flinched, guilt twisting in my gut. "I know. God, Joe, I know. I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing. That I needed to prove myself, become someone worthy of her."
Joe shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Son, let me tell you something. In all my years, I've never seen anyone more worthy of love than you two were of each other. You didn't need to prove a damn thing."
His words hit me like a sucker punch, and I found myself blinking back tears. "I screwed up, Joe. I screwed up so bad."
Joe nodded, refilling my beer without me asking. "That you did. Question is, what are you gonna do about it now?"
I stared into my beer, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. "I don't know," I admitted. "I want to make things right, but... she doesn't want me back. Can't say I blame her."
Joe was quiet for a moment, then he reached under the bar and pulled out a battered old recipe book. "You remember this?" he asked, sliding it across to me.
I ran my fingers over the worn leather cover, a lump forming in my throat. "Our dessert experiments," I said softly. "I can't believe you kept this."
Joe shrugged. "Seemed important. You two used to come in here all the time, trying out new recipes on my customers. Said you were gonna revolutionize bar food one day."
I flipped through the pages, memories flooding back with each handwritten note and messy sketch.
There was the salted caramel brownie that had become a staple on Joe's menu, the bacon maple cupcakes that had been a surprising hit with the late-night crowd, and dozens of other creations born from our shared passion.
"We had big dreams," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You still do," Joe pointed out. "Both of you. Just... separate now."
I nodded, closing the book gently. "I don't know how to compete against her, Joe. It feels wrong, somehow."
Joe leaned in, his voice low and serious. "Then don't compete against her, Sage. Compete alongside her. Show her the boy she fell in love with is still in there somewhere."
I looked up at him, a glimmer of hope sparking in my chest. "You think that's possible?"
Joe shrugged. "Won't know unless you try. But let me tell you something – that girl in there tonight? The one who told you she couldn't risk falling apart again? She's not the same girl you left behind. She's stronger now, more sure of herself. You want a chance with her, you're gonna have to prove you've grown too."
I nodded, Joe's words sinking in. He was right. The Alyssa I'd seen tonight wasn't the same girl I'd left four years ago. She was fiercer, more determined. And god help me, I loved her even more for it.
"Thanks, Joe," I said, standing up and reaching for my wallet.
Joe waved me off. "On the house. Consider it payment for the entertainment you're about to provide this town."
I laughed, the sound rusty but genuine. "Glad to know our drama is good for business."
As I turned to leave, the door swung open, and a familiar figure walked in. Ash's eyes widened when he saw me.
"Sage? What are you doing here, man?"
I sighed, gesturing for him to join me at the bar. "Long story. Got time for a drink?"
Ash nodded, sliding onto the stool next to me. "For you? Always. Joe, two of whatever he's having."
As Joe poured our drinks, Ash turned to me, his dark eyes filled with concern. "Alright, spill. How did it go with Alyssa?"
I took a deep breath and launched into the story of my ill-fated visit to Alyssa's apartment. Ash listened quietly, his expression growing more sympathetic with each word.
"Damn, man," he said when I finished. "That's rough."
I nodded, taking another sip of my beer. "Yeah. I mean, I get it. I hurt her. I just... I guess I hoped..."
"That love would conquer all?" Ash finished, a wry smile on his face. "Come on, Sage. You know better than that. Love's not some magical fix-it-all. It's work. Hard work."
I sighed. "I know. I just... I miss her, Ash. Every day. Coming back here, seeing her again... it's like all those feelings I tried to bury just came rushing back."
Ash was quiet for a moment, absently tracing one of his tattoos – a intricate sugar skull that covered most of his forearm. Finally, he spoke. "You know, when you left, Alyssa was... she was a mess, man. Like, worse than I've ever seen anyone."
I flinched, guilt twisting in my gut. "Ash, I-"
He held up a hand, cutting me off. "Let me finish. She was a mess, but you know what? She picked herself up. She threw herself into that bakery, worked her ass off. And now? Now she's killing it. Sweet Dreams is doing better than ever."
I nodded, a mix of pride and regret washing over me. "I know. She's amazing."
"She is," Ash agreed. "And if you want any chance with her, you're gonna have to show her you're amazing too. Not just in business, but as a person. Show her you've grown, that you're not the same guy who walked away four years ago."
I stared at him, surprised. "When did you get so wise about relationships?"
Ash grinned, the expression lighting up his face. "What can I say? I contain multitudes."
I couldn't help but laugh. This was why Ash had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. He always knew how to cut through my bullshit and make me see things clearly.
"So," I said, swirling the last of my beer in the glass. "Any ideas on how I can show Alyssa I've changed?"
Ash's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "As a matter of fact, I might have a few..."
As we sat there in The Rusty Nail, plotting and planning, I felt a spark of hope ignite in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make things right.
To show Alyssa that the boy she fell in love with was still here, older and wiser and ready to be the man she deserved.
But first, I had a bakery to run and a competition to win. And this time, I was going to do it the right way – with honesty, integrity, and a whole lot of sugar.