Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 20

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Married Before Midnight


Chapter 20: A Bitter End to Sweet Beginnings


The New Year had brought with it a fragile sense of peace for the Carter family. Sweet Beginnings, their beloved take-away bakery, had flourished over the past year, bringing stability and pride to Eleanor and her daughters. Even Henry, confined to his bed, had watched with silent joy as his family thrived. Lucas, now fully embraced as one of their own, had become their protector—both in business and at home. But beneath the surface of their hard-won contentment, unease lingered. The letter arrived on a crisp January morning, delivered by a stiff-faced courier who refused to meet Eleanor’s eyes. She unfolded it with steady hands, her daughters clustering around her, their breaths held. "Dear Mrs. Whitmore-Carter, After careful consideration, The Oak & Ivy Café has decided not to renew our contract with Sweet Beginnings. We appreciate your services over the past year and wish you the best in your future endeavors. Sincerely, James Whitmore, Manager." Silence settled over the kitchen like a heavy blanket. Olivia, ever the pragmatist, was the first to speak. "That doesn’t make sense. We’ve never had a single complaint. Our pastries sell out every morning!" Hannah’s sharp eyes narrowed. "And why no explanation? Just a cold, formal dismissal?" Eleanor’s fingers tightened around the paper. "James Whitmore…"


The name tasted bitter on her tongue. "He’s never liked competition." Lucas, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, frowned. "You think this is personal?" Charlotte, usually the most optimistic, bit her lip. "Or maybe someone pressured him." Lillian and Emily exchanged glances, their twin intuition humming. "Someone like Mr. Thompson?" Emily ventured. The mention of their former adversary sent a ripple of tension through the room. Eleanor exhaled slowly. "We won’t know unless we ask." --- The Oak & Ivy Café was bustling when Eleanor and Olivia arrived the next morning, the scent of coffee and baked goods thick in the air. James Whitmore, a wiry man with a perpetually pinched expression, stood behind the counter, tallying receipts. "James," Eleanor greeted, her voice steady despite the knot in her stomach. He looked up, his smile tight. "Eleanor. Olivia. Here for a last order?" Olivia’s jaw clenched. "We’re here for answers. Why terminate our contract without warning?" James hesitated, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard. "Business decisions change.


Nothing personal." Eleanor stepped closer, lowering her voice. "James, we’ve known each other for years. If there’s a problem, tell me." For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—guilt, maybe fear. Then his expression shuttered. "It’s just business, Eleanor. Move on." Olivia’s temper flared. "Move on? After we kept your shelves stocked, your customers happy? You owe us more than this!" A few patrons turned to stare. James’s face reddened. "Keep your voice down," he hissed. Eleanor placed a restraining hand on Olivia’s arm. "Let’s go." As they turned to leave, a familiar laugh cut through the noise. Brenda Miller, impeccably dressed and smirking, sat at a corner table with none other than Mr. Thompson. Olivia froze. "You’ve got to be kidding me." Brenda raised her coffee cup in a mocking toast. "Morning, ladies. Lovely day for a fresh start, isn’t it?" Eleanor’s blood ran cold.


Back at home, the family gathered around the kitchen table, the weight of betrayal pressing down on them. "It’s Brenda," Hannah said flatly. "She’s behind this." Lucas nodded. "And Thompson. They must have pressured Whitmore to cut ties with us." Charlotte slumped in her chair. "But why? We already proved she was sabotaging us before. What does she gain now?" Lillian toyed with the edge of her napkin. "Revenge. She hates that we exposed her." Emily, usually the quiet observer, spoke up. "Or she wants to force us out of business." Eleanor’s hands trembled as she poured tea. "We won’t let her." Olivia’s mind raced. "We need another distributor. Fast." Hannah tapped her fingers against the table. "What about the farmers' market? Or direct deliveries?" Lucas leaned forward. "I might have an idea. There’s a new hotel opening downtown. High-end. They’ll need a reliable bakery supplier." A spark of hope flickered in Eleanor’s chest. "It’s worth a try." But as the family began strategizing, Henry’s faint groan drew their attention. His eyes, though clouded with illness, burned with silent fury. Olivia squeezed his hand. "We’ll fix this, Dad. I promise." --- That evening, as the house settled into quiet, Eleanor stood at the kitchen window, watching the snow fall. Lucas joined her, handing her a cup of chamomile tea. "You okay?" he asked softly. She sighed. "I just don’t understand why Brenda won’t let go. What did we ever do to her?" Lucas hesitated. "Some people don’t need a reason to hate. They just do." Eleanor’s grip tightened on the cup. "Then we’ll fight harder." Outside, the wind howled, carrying with it the promise of a storm.