The farther I get from the bakery, the more my chest tightens, not with panic, but with something dangerously close to hope.
I shouldn’t want this.
This makes no sense.
I have a penthouse I barely sleep in. A job I could walk away from and still never worry about money again. A network of people who would kill for ten minutes of my time.
And I want to scrub prep tables.
I want to be told my hands are wrong.
I want to learn how to fold dough without tearing it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I pass a coffee shop and almost go in out of habit, then stop. I already had coffee. I don’t need more. For once, my body feels… used. Not depleted, but spent in a good way. Like I did something instead of thinking about doing something.
That feeling scares me.
Because once you know what real work feels like, it’s hard to go back to pretending.
I reach my car and unlock it, sliding into the driver’s seat. The interior smells like leather and something vaguely citrusy, designed by someone who’s never cleaned a grease trap in their life.
I sit there with my hands on the steering wheel, not starting the engine. Ella Langley plays on the radio.
Tomorrow.
Or don’t.
She didn’t say come back for sure. She didn’t say you’re hired. She said, “Think.”
I think about Gwen’s face when she found out I won’t get a salary. The way she looked like she was witnessing a crime against capitalism.
I think about Tess’s voice when she said, "You will not be special."
I start the car.
Traffic crawls. I don’t mind. It gives me time to think, which is ironic, because thinking is what I’m trying to stop doing.
I’ve spent my entire adult life thinking. Strategizing. Optimizing. Projecting outcomes like the future is a spreadsheet I can control.
The bakery didn’t care about my projections.
It cared whether I was in the way.
That might be the most honest feedback I’ve gotten in years.
My phone buzzes again. I glance at it at a red light.
Marissa. Again.
This time, there’s a voicemail notification.
I don’t listen.
I don’t have the energy to manage someone else’s emotions right now. For once, I want to sit with my own.
The light turns green. I drive.
