Chapter 144


    TIMOTHY POV


    The scent of freshly whipped icing and berry jams tickled Timothy’s nose as he sat amongst the


    various cakes and pastries scattered about.


    He found himself once again dragged into the world of wedding preparations, a realm he had never


    imagined himself entering so soon. The prospect of cake testing, of all things, seemed incongruous


    with the chaos that hade to define his life. Yet, there he was, seated in a bustling bakery,


    surrounded by towering confections in all shapes and sizes.


    Ste was the picture of enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she perused the


    extensive menu of cake options. She had insisted on bringing Timothy along, and he had reluctantly


    agreed, partly to appease her and partly because he had given his word.


    Beside him sat his mother, Lydia, a woman whose presence had be increasingly important in


    his life. She had insisted on meeting Ste in person before they tied the knot, and Timothy had


    reluctantly obliged, hoping to bridge the gap between the two most important women in his life.


    As Ste engaged in a fervent discussion with the baker about vors and designs, Lydia sat


    quietly, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Ste’s fric energy. Timothy watched as his


    mother observed Ste with a keen eye, her polite smile never wavering.


    Ste’s voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back into the moment. “Timothy, what do you


    think of this one?” she asked, holding up a sketch of an ornate cake adorned with cascading


    fondant flowers.


    He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. He nced at the sketch, the intricacy of


    the design overwhelming his senses. “It looks… impressive,” he offered, his tonecking


    enthusiasm.


    Ste’s disappointment was evident, and her eyes narrowed as she turned her attention back to the


    baker. “Let’s go with something simpler,” she said, her voice. tinged with irritation.


    Ste’s dismissive attitude toward Lydia had not gone unnoticed by Timothy. She had barely spoken


    or looked at the woman since they had arrived. He knew that.


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    Ste harbored doubts about his mother’s longevity in their lives, assuming that Lydia wouldn’t be


    around for long.


    His mind drifted toparisons, a dangerous territory he had ventured into more times than he


    cared to admit. He couldn’t help but contrast Ste with Evie. Where Evie was grounded and


    unpretentious, Ste was consumed by a whirlwind of extravagance and ambition.


    The urge to escape the bakery, to flee from the suffocating atmosphere, gnawed at him. He longed


    for the simplicity and authenticity that had defined his connection. with Evie. But he had made a


    choice, and now he had to contend with the


    consequences.


    Lydia, sensing his difort, finally spoke up, her voice calm but firm. “Ste, you should consider


    Timothy’s opinions. After all, it’s his wedding too.”


    Ste’s eyes shed with irritation, and for a moment, Timothy feared that an argument was


    imminent. “Lydia, I know what I’m doing. I’ve been dreaming of this day for years, and Timothy even


    told me that I could handle all the extra stuff.”


    Lydia looked to Timothy for confirmation, and he nodded sadly. “This is her league entirely. Besides,


    I don’t really have a cake preference. I don’t eat sweets much.”


    Ste folded her arms across her chest, grinning at Lydia. “See? Your son knows. what he wants.”


    The tension in the room was palpable as the two women leered at each other. As Timothy sat there,


    his mind in turmoil, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had. made a grave mistake in putting them in a


    room together.


    “Do you even n on attending the wedding?” Ste asked suddenly, looking Lydia up and down. “I


    know you have your condition, so it seems a little risky for us to go to the trouble of preparing


    seating and all.”


    “Ste!” Timothy snapped, taken aback by her words. Ste merely acknowledged him with a


    disinterested nce before returning to the cake artists‘ sketches. The woman looked slightly


    ufortable, and Timothy gave her a look of sympathy. Somehow, Ste had turned such a


    sweet ce into something disgustingly bitter. Ste’s dismissiveness his mother had struck a


    nerve, one that he couldn’t ignore.


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    “I merely stating the facts,” Ste muttered finally, still flipping through the colorful pages. As her


    gaze flickered back to Lydia, she added, “She doesn’t look


    too well.”


    Before he could refute, Timothy heard his mother’s rough cough beside him. As he looked to see


    what was wrong, he found her struggling for breath as the coughs. wracked her body. Her face had


    taken on a pale pallor, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.


    Timothy reached out and gently took her arm. “Mom, are you okay?” he asked. cautiously.


    Lydia offered a weak smile. “I’m fine, Timothy. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”


    But Timothy wasn’t convinced. He nced at Ste, a sense of urgency in his eyes. “Ste, we


    need to step outside for a moment.”


    Ste’s irritation was evident, but she nodded reluctantly, sensing the gravity of the situation. They


    left the bakery, the fresh air providing some relief from the stifling. atmosphere inside.


    Once they were alone, Timothy turned his attention back to his mother, his concern deepening.


    “Mom, you don’t look well. Are you sure you’re okay?”


    Lydia hesitated for a moment, her gaze distant. “Timothy, it’s nothing to worry about. Just a minor


    episode.”


    Timothy’s worry only intensified. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her condition


    than she was letting on. “Mom, you can’t brush this off. We need to get you checked by a doctor.”


    “I’m fine, Tim,” she said bluntly, her eyes narrowed. “We don’t need to run to the doctor every time I


    so much as twitch.”


    “That wasn’t a twitch, Mom,” Timothy pressed, giving her back a gentle rub. “You sure you’re


    okay?”


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    She nodded and cleared her throat. “I’m sure. Let’s head back in, huh?”


    Reluctantly, Timothy led her back inside and sat her at the table. She waved him. away as he


    attempted to adjust her, mumbling that she can do it herself and didn’t need coddling.


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    [04/


    Just as Timothy took his seat, Ste’s phone rang, breaking the tense silence. She nced at the


    caller ID and her expression changed. “It’s Scarlett,” she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.


    Timothy raised an eyebrow. He’d almost forgotten about Scarlett, though Ste barely mentioned


    her sister, even in passing.


    Ste answered the call, her voice cautious. “Scarlett, what’s going on?”


    Timothy could only listen to one side of the conversation, but it was clear that Scarlett was


    discussing something rted to the estate dispute. The mention ofwyers and meetings left a


    bitter taste in his mouth.


    As Ste continued to speak with Scarlett, Timothy’s mind raced. He knew that wherever Scarlett


    was, Evie was likely involved as well. The prospect of facing Evie in a legal battle over the estate


    sent a shiver down his spine. He had hoped to avoid any further confrontations with Evie, but it


    seemed fate had other ns.


    Ste concluded the call with a curt, “Bye,” then turned to Timothy.


    “I guess we’ll be cutting this short,” Ste said, then gave the baker a mourous smile. “We’ll try


    the first 26 cakes for our next appointment!”


    “Sounds good, ma’am!” the baker returned, collecting the sketch book.


    Timothy felt his stomach turn and clenched his fists beneath the table. He braced himself for the


    storm that was brewing ahead.


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