Her mouth drops closer to the floor. Then she glances outside at the boutique across the street. She declares, "Sebastian, this is prime real estate."

"Yes, I know. It's perfect for foot traffic," I add.

She frets, "I can't afford rent on a place like this."

My face falls. I go to the counter and pick up a thick envelope. I hand it to her and state, "There is no rent. The title was transferred to your name yesterday. My attorneys filed for your franchise. They want to meet with you. Whenever you're ready though. It can be soon or down the road. It's a standing meeting. The paperwork is all in here."

She puts one hand over her mouth and her other on her stomach.

I chuckle. "You really should see your face right now."

"Sebastian, are you serious?"

"Yes. Here, let me show you around your kitchen." I guide her through the swinging door and ask, "Is everything how it's supposed to be?"

She studies the room, goes to the ovens and opens them, then slides her hand over the mixers. "This is amazing," she says reverently.

Happy that I got it right, I guide her out of the kitchen to where the customers will sit. I show her the lounge area and then I open the glass door for the quiet room. I inform her, "I had them noise proof it. And you didn't have this on your plans, but I had them add the electrical outlets so people can charge their phones or laptops. I hope that's okay?"

She nods. "That's a great idea."

I ask again, "Is this what you imagined? I tried to get it as close to scale as possible to your design, but if anything's off—"

"It's perfect," she claims. Her eyes glisten, and she locks them with mine. She adds, "It's exactly as I imagined."

I step forward and place my hands on her cheeks.

She squeezes her eyes shut and whispers, "Sebastian, I can't do this with you again."

I feel ill, so ill. I've felt like this since she left me, but this is the worst I think it's been. I declare, "Georgia, all couples have issues they have to deal with. We can get past this."

She opens her eyes, asserting, "We were never meant to be. We just got wrapped up in things because of the situation."

"I don't believe that. Tell me you don't believe that," I plead.

She tilts her head, questioning, "Would you have ever asked me out if you didn't need a fake wife?"

"That was stupid of me to ever ask you to do. I'm sorry."

"Sebastian, answer my question. Would you have asked me out?"

My mouth turns dry.

"You thought I was an annoying woman with a silly cupcake bakery dream, didn't you?"

I hate that I called her bakery silly a few weeks ago and how ignorant I was. I confess, "Georgia, I was an unhappy, arrogant idiot."