KARE-BEAR:
r u gonna do it??
ME:
i think i have to ??
this might actually be my
chance
KARE-BEAR:
u bring cookies.
i’ll bring champagne.
and if the trunch tries to fire
u for it, i’ll fight her ??
I laugh, blinking against the happy sting in my eyes. Leave it to Kara to make my whole chest ache with gratitude and panic at the same time.
Because she’s right, if I take this chance, there’s no safety net. No extended paid time off, no backup plan. Just me, myself, and a dream I’ve been kneading into shape for years.
I set the phone down, my smile wobbling a little as I glance back at my laptop.
This isn’t just a hobby anymore. It’s a crossroads.
“I GOT IN!” I shout at nobody, then realize the window’s open and Mrs. Delgado from next door is outside watering her plants even though it’s the middle of the night.
My eyes go wide when our gazes meet.
She peers through the screen. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Living the dream, Mrs. Delgado!” I call back, leaning against the counter to bring my face closer to the window.
“Good for you, honey. But it looks like you left your oven on again.” Her watery pale eyes soften, and she smiles, inclining her head my way.
I whip around. “Oh my gosh!”
Sure enough, the faint aroma of almost-burnt sugar hits my nose. I dash to the oven and pull out the tray of lemon cookies I’d been working on before falling down my email rabbit hole.
Half of them are golden perfection. The other half… not so much. Is charcoal chic a thing?
Sighing, I shake my head at myself, then laugh again. “Better now than in May.”
I grab one of the good ones, biting into it, and letting the crumbles melt in my mouth. Crunchy edges, soft center, a hint of lemon zest, and sweet hope dance across my tongue. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting there.
My eyes flick back to the laptop screen. The email that is offering everything I’ve ever dreamed of is still there. Still glowing. Still daring me to say yes.
I swallow the last bite, then whisper to myself, “This is it. My life’s about to change forever.”
And without giving it another thought, I type out a quick acceptance email and hit send. I can’t give myself the chance to rationalize my way out of this.
This is my one shot, and I’m going to take it.
I close my laptop, press my hands to my cheeks, and let myself imagine the smell of all kinds of sugary goodness rolling through a tiny little bakery that’s all mine. Maybe this is crazy. Maybe it’ll never happen. But hope blooms in my chest, and for the first time in a long time, I can almost taste it—and nothing has ever tasted so sweet.
