Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 543

After Emma finished her performance, she headed to the next spot with Cindra and the children, Theodore once again trailing them with his phone out to record a video.

Cindra asked curiously, “Emma, why do I get the feeling you know that Mr. Baker better than you let on?”

Mr. Baker…

“He’s my ex-husband,” Emma said frankly.

“What?” Cindra’s surprise quickly turned into a dilemma. “Oh no, and I was just chatting with him! What’s my stance now? Emma? Should I despise him or despise him?”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at Cindra’s earnestness. “It doesn’t matter. He’s my ‘ex’ for a reason. It has nothing to do with me anymore.”

“No way. I can’t be friendly with him anymore,” Cindra declared, her sense of loyalty kicking in. “If he could divorce someone as wonderful as you, he must be a bad guy.”

Emma just shook her head and smiled. “Alright, it’s our turn to dance!”

As the cheerful music and children’s singing started up again, they were too busy keeping their feet moving to dwell on old grudges. All of that had long since scattered to the wind.

In the afternoon, Emma and Cindra went to explore the Christmas market. The moment they stepped in, they were completely captivated. Mulled wine, roasted apples, artisan pastries, local jams, and savory snacks… Emma even found some treats that reminded her of home. The market was a feast for the senses, and from one end to the other, their hands were never empty. But what truly stole their hearts were the handmade crafts.

The market was filled with unique, beautifully designed little treasures: lovely knitted hats, handmade candles, jewelry, wooden toys, and woolen goods you couldn’t find anywhere else. Emma wanted to buy one of everything.

Finally, she stopped in front of a stall selling pottery.

She’d always had a soft spot for cups, plates, and jars, and one particular earthenware pot completely captured her heart.

But…

She looked down at the several large bags she was already carrying. Not only was there no more room, but there was no way she could haul something so big all the way back home.

She set her things down, cradling the pot, unwilling to let it go.

“Emma, hold it, and I’ll take a picture for you,” Cindra suggested. “It’ll be like you bought it.”

Worried the seller might mind, Emma asked for permission first. The vendor was delighted she liked his work and was more than happy to let her take a photo.

Emma pressed her cheek against the cool clay of the pot for a picture, then settled for buying two cups and two bowls before walking away, full of regret.

Oh well, life is full of little disappointments, she thought.

“Let’s get something else to eat, and then we should probably head back,” Emma decided, feeling like she’d had her fill of shopping.

Their flight was the next day, and tonight had been a perfect farewell.

“Sounds good,” Cindra agreed. She accompanied Emma to a pizza stall that also sold dark beer and sausages. They ordered a pizza, two sausages, and a warm dark beer for each of them.

“So, have you fallen in love with the local brew?” a familiar voice asked.

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