Font Size:

Page 56 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

“We have arrived.”

Perhaps it was best not to ask and just act.

He moved to open the door for me. And I stepped out.

“I won’t be long.”

I brushed away all my thoughts when I spotted Sarah sitting on a bench. A huge smile appeared on her face as I hurried towards her. She immediately pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you so much.”

I nodded with a smile.

After a few hours of shopping, we were finally done.

Sarah added a gift box to what we’d gotten. Her personal gift to him. I didn’t know what was inside though.

No matter how many times I tried to convince her, she didn’t want to be present. She said it was too sudden. And I understood.

In no time, I was back in the car. Glancing at the small rose tucked neatly into one of the bags. After much contemplation on what to get him, I finally settled on this.

A white rose.

Not a bouquet. Just a single piece.

Maybe it seemed small. Especially to one who had it all. But it was enough to convey the sole message of all this.

I smiled longingly at the piece of flower. A white rose was a symbol of new beginnings. That was all I wanted him to have.

A new beginning.

Fred pulled into the driveway a couple of minutes later. I quickly thanked him.

Again, I hauled all the bags out of the car. Refusing any help from him. Just like before, he protested.

Before allowing me to do as I pleased.

Once I reached inside, I started with decorations. It was a white ribbon around his chair and the dining table. The ribbon had stripes of black which contrasted nicely with the coffee brown table.

After that, I centred a crystal vase in the middle of the decoration. Arranged the white candles in a neat pattern around the vase. Then placed both mine and Sarah’s gifts next to a bottle of wine.

A look of satisfaction spread across my face as I drew back to inspect my masterpiece. Okay, it wasn’t exactly a masterpiece. Perhaps it was more of a minimal decoration.

But it suited his personality.

I glanced at my wristwatch—2:34 p.m.

Why did it feel like time was flying? And why did I feel my anxiety rising?

Ignoring the doubts that started to claw at my throat, I moved to the kitchen. I brought out the flour and other ingredients needed for the cake. Thankfully, I knew how to bake.

It was the one thing Dad loved. And the one thing mom liked to teach me.

My heart skipped a beat.

A few more hours and the cake, along with his favourite meal, was finally done.

It was already 4:38 p.m.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books



Le temps d'exécution est de 19.253015518188 millisecondes.