A breath dies in my throat and I turn my back but it’s too late. He’s walking toward me, his expression impossible to read. I’d done so well avoiding him, too! My heart pounds and I wipe my mouth with a napkin, hoping I don’t have any cinnamon crumbs on my face. I’m so focused on my own dread that I don’t see he’s holding a large take-out container in his hand until he sets it on the table in front of me.

He opens it with a flourish before he speaks, “Cronuts. Scones. Canelés. Tartlets. And . . . jumbo biscotti. Take your pick.”

I look down at the treats and then up at him. “Hi . . . What is all this?”

“Quality day-old products. I hit every café I could find below Thirty-Fourth Street.”

Unsure of what to say, I settle for something resembling our normal bickering. “You mean we fought over stale biscotti when we could’ve been fighting over cronuts this whole time?”

“Not just any cronut,” he clarifies. “Maple bacon.”

He nudges the container toward me.

“I’m not all that hungry,” I say.

“Oh. Work going well enough that you can buy lunch now?” His eyes are soft, questioning, as if he genuinely cares how my work is going.

“It’s getting there,” I say. We look at each other for a moment. “What are you doing here, Miles?” I can’t stand the way my voice hitches. I wish I could be nonchalant.

“Is it okay if I sit for a second?” he asks and I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak; I’ll either rage at him or sob, and the way my pulse speeds up as he settles across from me, I have no idea which emotion will win. I wasn’t sure I’d ever talk to him again, but suddenly here we are, as though nothing’s changed, as though he didn’t shatter my heart.

He swallows tightly. “I’m here to apologize. I went off the grid for a few days and I need to tell you why. I don’t expect you to understand, given how you feel about having kids—”

Now I’m really thrown. “What do kids have to do with anything?”

“You don’t want them and I do, and . . .”

“Wait, hold up. There are days I do, and days I don’t. I don’t think I should be pinned down about it at this stage in the game.”

“You’re right, but Jordan came to me, the day I was supposed to meet up with you. She said she wanted me to be the twins’ dad. I freaked out and I didn’t know how to handle it and by the time I came back to myself, I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I blocked you,” I explain, my mind spinning. “After four days of nothing, I’d had enough.”