Chapter 4 - The Dime and the Bread
Before Preston could close the distance, Naomi stood up, packing her sewing kit into a weathered canvas tote.
"Come on, my little men," she called out softly, waving them over. "The bakery closes in twenty minutes. If we hurry, Mr. Henderson might have the day-old sourdough for half price."
"Can we get the cinnamon swirl, Mama?" Theo asked eagerly, bounding toward her and wrapping his little arms around her knees. "Just one bite each?"
Naomi’s expression softened into a tender, heartbreaking smile that made Preston's chest ache with profound regret. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a handful of nickels, dimes, and copper pennies. She counted them slowly, her thumb grazing the coins.
"Not today, sweetheart," she said gently, brushing the hair from Theo’s forehead. "We need enough for the milk and the heating meter tonight. But I tell you what—if you both finish your soup without complaining, I'll toast the crusts with a sprinkle of real sugar."
"Yay! Sugar toast!" Eli cheered, clapping his small, chapped hands together.
Preston stood in the shadows of an overgrown hedge, paralyzed by shame.
*Sugar toast.*
Yesterday morning, his private chef had thrown away forty dollars worth of smoked salmon simply because Preston had only eaten one bite before rushing to a board meeting. Last week, he had tipped a valet a hundred-dollar bill just for parking his sports car under the shade.
And here was his former wife, the woman he had once sworn before God to cherish and protect, counting pennies to buy stale bread so his twin sons wouldn't freeze in the dark.
Naomi took each boy by the hand, guiding them toward the crosswalk with practiced caution. She never looked up. She never looked around to see the billionaire watching her from the corner, his tears finally breaking free and running down his frozen cheeks.
Preston pulled out his phone. His fingers shook so violently he could barely dial.
"Martin," he croaked, his voice thick with unspilt agony.
"Preston? What happened? Did you find them?"
"I’m looking at them right now," Preston choked out, leaning against the damp brick wall of an abandoned warehouse for support. "Buy the bakery."
"What?"
May you like
"Buy Henderson’s Bakery. Buy the entire block. Buy the apartment building she lives in. Buy the utility company that controls the heat to her building. Do it within the hour, Martin. And if anyone cuts off their power or charges them for a single crumb of bread ever again, I will burn this entire city to the ground."
***
