Victor walked to our table and explained everything. Four years earlier, Lorna and her husband had been drowning in debt from a failed restaurant. When Victor mentioned he found me charming, Lorna offered to help him win me over, for a fee. He was lonely and foolish enough to sign. Every bouquet he sent, every dinner she pushed me toward, had been part of that deal. The fee was never paid, because I never said yes.

Then Victor heard how Micah had sold his truck and given everything to save his dying sister. He realized I had chosen a far better man than him. A week before our wedding, Victor found Micah at the auto shop where he worked, handed him the agreement, and apologized. Micah asked him to come to the diner. He wanted me to hear the truth with everyone present. Micah’s parents nodded quietly; they had known since that morning.

Lorna burst into tears and claimed she only wanted me to be safe. Nobody believed her. Our father stood up, set down his napkin, and told her to leave the diner. She did, without her coat. Micah’s mother squeezed my hand under the table. Victor set the white roses beside our donut plate, wished us a long, happy marriage, and walked out behind her. He never sent me flowers again.

Lorna didn’t speak to me for almost a year. When she finally called, she apologized and admitted she had been jealous of how easily I loved someone who had nothing. Micah and I still live in a small apartment above the auto shop. We named our first daughter after his sister. She loves donuts too. Every anniversary, Micah brings home a tower of twenty-two dollars’ worth of donuts, and Lorna brings the coffee now. It is still my favorite cake.