Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 178

Chapter 178: Chapter 178
Seraphina’s POV

The truck rattled down Main Street, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’m serious!” Caleb protested, but he was grinning too. “She asked if you were single, like, three times before you even got out of the car. I saw her rehearsing questions in the kitchen mirror this morning.”

“Oh my god.” I pressed my hands to my face. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?”

“Both! Definitely both.” I peeked at him through my fingers. “Does she do this to everyone?”

He turned onto Oak Street, the bakery coming into view. “Last month she tried to set me up with the new librarian. The month before that, it was the girl who works at the post office. Before that—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” I dropped my hands. “Your mom is determined.”

“Determined is putting it lightly.” He pulled into a parking spot. “She has a notebook.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was joking.” He killed the engine. “She color-codes them. Green for ‘highly suitable,’ yellow for ‘potential,’ red for ‘absolutely not.'”

“What color am I?”

He shot me a look. “You really want to know?”

“Now I have to know.”

“Purple.”

“Purple? What does purple mean?”

“It means ‘absolutely the only one.'” He said it in a perfect imitation of Margaret’s voice. “With a star next to it.”

Despite everything—despite the awkwardness at dinner, despite the weight of three years pressing on my chest—I burst out laughing. Real, genuine laughter that made my ribs hurt.

“Your mom is insane,” I managed between giggles.

“Clinically.” But he was smiling. “Come on. Let’s get this cake before she sends out a search party.”

We climbed out of the truck, the late afternoon sun warm on my face. The street was quiet. Peaceful.

“For what it’s worth,” Caleb said as we walked, “I told her to back off. Multiple times.”

“It’s fine.” I meant it.

“Yeah, but she shouldn’t have brought up—” He stopped himself.

“Damien?” I said it before he could. Before the name could hang unspoken between us. “It’s okay. You can say his name. I’m not going to shatter.”

I admitted the truth—that I thought about Damien every single day, that I saw Adrian in every dark-haired boy, that I wondered if Lily had my eyes or his smile—then everything I’d built would collapse.

“I’m not looking to date anyone,” I said instead. “Not now. Maybe not ever.”

Caleb studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. But you deserve the best. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” I blinked hard. “That’s why you need to stop before I start crying in the middle of Main Street.”

“Can’t have that.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “City girl’s got a reputation to maintain.”

I laughed despite the tears threatening to fall. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“You’re twelve years old.”

“And yet somehow more mature than you.”

We turned the corner, still trading insults, still grinning like idiots.

Then I saw it.

Betty’s Bakery.

The pink and white awning. The cheerful painted sign. The same window display I’d stared through a hundred Sunday mornings.

My blood turned to ice.

All the laughter died in my throat. My feet stopped moving. My whole body just… froze.

“Sera?” Caleb’s voice seemed far away. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare at that bakery like it was a ghost from another life.

Because it was.

Sunday mornings. Damien’s hand warm in mine. Adrian’s chocolate-covered face. The smell of fresh pastries and coffee. The sound of his laugh when I’d get frosting on my nose.

“That’s…” My voice came out strangled. “That’s our bakery.”

“Your what?”

“Damien and I used to come here.” The words hurt coming out. “Every Sunday. With Adrian. It was our thing. Our tradition.”

Caleb followed my gaze. “Oh.”

“I can’t—” Panic clawed at my chest. “I can’t go in there. I can’t—”

“Hey, hey.” He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

“We need to leave.” My voice was rising. Getting higher. More desperate. “We need to go somewhere else. Another bakery. Anywhere but—”

“Sera, listen to me.” His voice was firm. Grounding. “We’re not going to Betty’s. The cake we’re picking up? It’s from Miller’s Bakery. Two streets over. Completely different place.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Miller’s Bakery.” He said it slowly, clearly. “That’s where Mom ordered from. We’re not going to Betty’s.”

Relief crashed through me so hard my knees almost buckled. “We’re not?”

“No. I promise.” His hands squeezed my shoulders gently. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. My heart was still hammering. My hands were still shaking.

“Come on.” Caleb’s voice was gentle now. “Miller’s is just around the corner. Five-minute walk.”

“Okay.” I forced myself to breathe. “Okay. I can do that.”

We started walking again. Away from Betty’s. Away from those Sunday morning ghosts.

But my chest still felt tight. My throat still ached. Because even just seeing that bakery—even just walking past it—had ripped open wounds I’d thought were healed.

We turned the corner onto Maple Street.

And that’s when I saw her.

A little girl. Standing alone on the sidewalk. Maybe three years old. Dark hair in pigtails. A dress that looked like it had been put on backward.

One pink shoe. One purple shoe.

My heart stopped.

“Is that kid alone?” Caleb said, concerned. “Where are her parents?”

The little girl was looking around. Confused. Maybe lost. Her bottom lip was starting to tremble.

She needed help.

She needed someone.

My feet started moving before my brain caught up. Crossing the street. Getting closer. My heart hammering so hard I thought it might explode.

“Hey,” I heard myself say, my voice shaking. “Hey, sweetie. Are you lost?”

The little girl turned.

Her eyes met mine.

Her face lit up.

Brighter than the sun. Brighter than anything I’d ever seen.

And she ran.

Straight at me.

Fast as lightning.

Those mismatched shoes slapping against the pavement.

Those pigtails bouncing.

That backward dress flying behind her like wings.

Before I could move, before I could breathe, before I could process what was happening—

She crashed into my legs with enough force to make me stumble.

Her small arms wrapped around my knees.

Her face pressed against my thighs.

And she looked up at me with those impossible ocean eyes and said the one word that shattered my entire world:

“Mama!”