“Mariana, wait.” “I’ll wait for you in the car.” “He didn’t mean any harm… he just…” “Javi,” I said, placing the box on the hood, “he’s been ‘just like this’ for seven years. Every time we meet. In front of everyone. Stop pretending it’s normal. Let’s go.”
We left. In the morning, I took the cake to the bakery. It sold in under an hour.
