I forced a smile as I accepted the box, though my stomach tightened with unease. Jake never sent cakes to my office. Not because he didn’t care—he simply wasn’t that kind of man. Practical. Reserved. Never spontaneous.
“Thanks,” I murmured, setting the box on my desk.
I waited until the delivery man left and the office noise settled back into its usual hum before lifting the lid.
The scent of vanilla frosting hit me first. Then I saw the writing.
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