Alyssa's Point Of View
The Sweet Life
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wrapped around me like a warm hug as I pushed open the worn wooden door of Sweet Dreams Bakery. My bakery.
Even after three years, that thought still sent a thrill through me. I paused in the doorway, drinking in the quiet calm before the day began.
Soft dawn light filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow on the display cases waiting to be filled with the day's creations.
Mismatched vintage chairs were tucked neatly under rustic tables, each one holding a small vase of wildflowers I'd picked yesterday.
The chalkboard menu behind the counter still bore yesterday's specials in my roommate Raine's artistic scrawl.
I made a mental note to update it with today's offerings: lavender honey scones and salted caramel brownies.
With a contented sigh, I flipped on the lights and headed to the kitchen. This was my favorite time of day, when the possibilities were endless and the only limit was my imagination. And maybe the amount of butter in the fridge.
I tied on my favorite apron – a gift from Raine, covered in cartoon cupcakes with smiling faces – and got to work.
There was something soothing about the ritual of baking, the precision of measuring ingredients and the alchemy of transforming them into something delicious.
As I creamed butter and sugar for my signature chocolate chip cookies, I let my mind wander.
At twenty-eight, I wasn't where I'd imagined I'd be at this point in my life. No husband, no kids, no white picket fence.
But I had something better: independence, a thriving business, and the freedom to create whatever I wanted.
Sweet Dreams was more than just a bakery; it was my haven, my happy place.
The bell over the door chimed, interrupting my reverie. I glanced at the clock – barely 6 AM. It could only be one person.
"Raine?" I called out. "That better be you, because if it's a customer, we're not open yet and I'm covered in flour!"
A familiar laugh echoed through the shop. "It's me, you flour-dusted disaster," Raine's voice rang out. "I come bearing gifts!"
I wiped my hands on my apron and poked my head out of the kitchen. Raine stood there, her vibrant teal hair clashing gloriously with her paint-splattered overalls.
In one hand she held a tray with two massive coffees, and in the other, a paper bag that undoubtedly contained some of her "experimental" vegan muffins.
"Oh thank God," I said, making grabby hands at the coffee. "You're a lifesaver."
Raine grinned, her nose ring glinting in the light. "I know. It's a burden being this amazing, but someone's got to do it."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. Raine had been my best friend since we were kids, united by our shared love of art – albeit in very different forms.
While I expressed myself through sugar and flour, Raine's canvas was, well, actual canvas. And walls. And sometimes unsuspecting objects around our apartment.
"So," Raine said, hopping up to sit on the counter despite my halfhearted protests, "what's on the agenda for today? Besides feeding the masses with your diabetic delights, of course."
I took a long sip of coffee, savoring the rich flavor. "Mmm. Well, I've got a meeting with the wedding planner for the Anderson-Lee wedding. They want a tasting of potential cake flavors."
"Ooh, fancy," Raine waggled her eyebrows. "Any chance of some leftovers finding their way home?"
I laughed. "Maybe. If you're nice to me."
"I brought you coffee at the crack of dawn. I'm always nice to you."
"Fair point," I conceded. "What about you? Any big artistic breakthroughs on the horizon?"
Raine's face lit up. "Actually, yeah! Remember that mural commission I was telling you about? For the children's hospital? They approved my design! I start next week."
"Raine, that's amazing!" I squealed, pulling her into a hug. "We have to celebrate. Girls' night tonight?"
"Absolutely," she nodded. "But first, you need to try these." She pushed the paper bag towards me. "Coconut chai muffins. Totally vegan, totally delicious. At least, I think so. I need your professional opinion."
I eyed the bag warily. Raine's vegan experiments were hit or miss, with an emphasis on the miss. But the hopeful look on her face was impossible to resist.
I reached into the bag and pulled out a muffin, its top dotted with what looked like crystallized ginger.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered, then took a bite.
To my surprise, it was... good. Really good. The chai spices were warm and comforting, perfectly balanced with the subtle sweetness of coconut. The texture was a bit denser than a traditional muffin, but not unpleasantly so.
"Wow," I said, my eyes widening. "Raine, this is actually delicious."
Her grin could have lit up the whole block. "Really? You're not just saying that?"
I shook my head, already reaching for another bite. "No, I mean it. These are fantastic. You should be proud."
Raine did a little victory dance, nearly knocking over our coffees in the process. "Yes! I knew I was onto something with these. Do you think... I mean, would you consider selling them here?"
I blinked, surprised. Raine had never shown interest in baking as more than a hobby before. "Are you serious?"
She nodded, suddenly looking nervous. "I've been thinking about it for a while. I love my art, but commissions can be unpredictable. I thought... maybe this could be a way to have a steadier income. Plus, we'd get to work together!"
The idea was tempting. Raine's creativity could bring a fresh perspective to the bakery, and her vegan creations would fill a niche I hadn't tapped into yet.
But a small part of me hesitated. Sweet Dreams was my baby, my vision. Was I ready to share that?
Before I could respond, the bell over the door chimed again. This time, it was Mrs. Holloway, one of my regular customers. The older woman's eyes crinkled with a smile as she spotted us.
"Good morning, girls," she said warmly. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"
"Not at all, Mrs. H," I assured her, slipping easily into professional mode. "The usual for you today? Blueberry muffin and a cup of Earl Grey?"
She nodded, then paused. "Actually, dear, I wondered if I might have a word with you? In private, if possible."
I exchanged a puzzled glance with Raine, who shrugged and hopped off the counter. "I'll get started on Mrs. H's tea," she said, giving me a curious look before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Is everything alright, Mrs. Holloway?" I asked, concerned. The older woman had been one of my first customers when I opened Sweet Dreams, and over the years, she'd become something of a surrogate grandmother to me.
Mrs. Holloway wrung her hands, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Oh, I'm fine, dear. It's just... well, I'm not sure how to say this."
My mind raced. Was she sick? Moving away? Had something happened to her husband?
"You can tell me anything," I assured her, leading her to a table and sitting down across from her.
She took a deep breath. "It's about the empty storefront next door. You know it's been for lease for months now."
I nodded. The 'For Lease' sign had been a fixture in the window of the space next to my bakery for so long I barely noticed it anymore.
"Well," Mrs. Holloway continued, "I heard from Mildred at the salon that it's been rented. They're opening another bakery there."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Another bakery? Right next door? Maple Grove wasn't exactly a bustling metropolis. Could the town support two bakeries so close together?
"Do you know who's opening it?" I managed to ask, my voice sounding strangely calm to my own ears.
Mrs. Holloway nodded, her expression grave. "That's why I wanted to tell you myself, dear. It's... well, it's Sage Holloway. My grandson."
The world tilted on its axis. Sage. My ex-boyfriend. The man who'd broken my heart four years ago when he'd chosen his career over our relationship. The man I'd spent years trying to forget.
And now he was back. Opening a rival bakery right next door to mine.
"Alyssa?" Mrs. Holloway's voice seemed to come from far away. "Are you alright, dear? You've gone quite pale."
I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "I'm fine, Mrs. Holloway. Thank you for telling me. When... when is he opening?"
"In about a month, from what I understand," she said softly. "Alyssa, I'm so sorry. If I'd known sooner..."
I shook my head, cutting her off. "You have nothing to apologize for. This isn't your fault."
Just then, Raine emerged from the kitchen, carrying Mrs. Holloway's tea and muffin. She took one look at my face and froze.
"What happened?" she demanded. "Who do I need to fight?"
Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped me. That was Raine – always ready to go to battle for me, even when the enemy was intangible.
Mrs. Holloway stood, patting my hand. "I'll leave you girls to talk. Alyssa, dear, if you need anything..."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As soon as the door closed behind her, Raine was at my side.
"Spill," she ordered. "What's going on?"
I took a shaky breath. "Sage is back."
Raine's eyes widened. "Sage? As in, 'broke-your-heart-and-left-town' Sage? What's he doing here?"
"Opening a bakery," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. "Next door."
"He's WHAT?" Raine exploded. "That slimy, good-for-nothing... I'll kill him. I swear, Alyssa, I'll..."
"Raine," I interrupted, my voice steadier than I felt. "It's okay. I'm okay."
But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't true. My mind was spinning, memories I'd thought long buried rushing to the surface.
Sage, with his crooked smile and warm brown eyes. The way he'd look at me like I was the only person in the world. Our dreams of opening a bakery together someday.
And then, the crushing pain when he'd told me he was leaving for culinary school in Paris. That his career had to come first.
I'd spent years building Sweet Dreams, pouring every ounce of my broken heart into creating something beautiful. And now Sage was back, threatening to destroy everything I'd worked for.
"What are you going to do?" Raine asked softly.
I stood up, squaring my shoulders. "The only thing I can do. I'm going to fight. This is my bakery, my town. I'm not going to let Sage Holloway waltz back in and take that away from me."
Raine grinned, a fierce light in her eyes. "That's my girl. And I'll be right there with you, every step of the way."
As we hugged, I felt a spark of determination ignite within me. I'd survived Sage leaving once. I could survive him coming back. I had to.
But as I pulled away and caught sight of my reflection in the window, I saw something in my eyes that made my breath catch.
It wasn't just determination I saw there.
It was fear.
Because deep down, in a place I'd tried so hard to ignore, a traitorous voice whispered a terrifying truth:
What if, after all this time, I wasn't just afraid of losing my bakery to Sage?
What if I was afraid of losing my heart to him all over again?