Tuesday – Early Morning – Midtown
The kitchen was already warm when Amaya stepped inside.
Flour in her hair. Chocolate smudged on her cheek. Oven humming softly like an old friend.
She didn't need to set an alarm anymore—her hands just moved. Instinct. Habit. Comfort.
Her parents thought she was prepping early morning inventory for the shop.
She didn't tell them she'd been baking nonstop since Jay left.
Because how do you explain that the silence of your kitchen feels less crushing than the silence in your heart?
A Morning Ritual
She kneaded dough while the sun rose, face calm, eyes focused. A little more pressure than necessary. A little more force.
The dough didn't complain.
Unlike her thoughts.
He said he'd be around after exams. Then he just... disappeared.
No message. No explanation.
And somehow, no one else seemed as devastated.
She wasn't angry.
Not at him.
Just at herself—for not asking more. For not noticing the signs.
For still hoping she'd hear that familiar knock at the back door again, followed by—
"Do you have those cinnamon rolls with the little smiley faces?"
But the door stayed closed.
And her hands just kept working.
Delivery Time
She brought a small box to school, tucked carefully inside a pink lunch bag.
Not for Jay.
She'd baked it for the class.
Or at least, that's what she told herself.
By the time she reached Class 1-A, the usual chaos had begun. Tyler throwing paper footballs. Miles flexing like he had sponsors. Emma looking particularly well-rested for someone who'd clearly been up all night pretending she hadn't been crying.
Amaya placed the box on the side counter.
Someone cheered.
"She's brought sweets again! Bless you, Amaya!"
"Did you put love in them?" Noah teased.
"No," she said simply.
No one noticed the flicker in her voice.
The Class Has Moved On
People still asked about Jay.
But less and less.
Today, no one mentioned him at all.
Even Mr. Brooks didn't say his name.
Amaya tried not to look at the empty desk by the window.
Tried not to imagine what he'd say if he were here now.
Tried not to think about how every time she laughed, part of her felt like she was betraying something.
Someone.
After School – A Visit to the Bakery
She helped her parents in the afternoon, tying her apron extra tight like it could hold her together.
Customers came and went.
An older lady commented that Amaya's smile was getting prettier these days.
"You must be in love," she winked.
Amaya paused mid-wipe of the counter.
Smiled politely.
"Maybe."
Then excused herself to the back and didn't return for ten minutes.
Nightfall – The Room of Memories
Her room was small. Cozy. Stuffed with cushions and books and tiny trinkets Jay had given her over the years.
A keychain. A sticker. A half-eaten cookie he swore looked like a rabbit.
She kept them all.
She sat at her desk and looked at a recipe she'd written weeks ago.
"Jay's Favourite: Choco-Caramel Smile Buns."
The ink had smudged slightly, like her hands had been shaking when she wrote it.
She ran her finger over the page.
"You better come back," she whispered.
"Because if you don't... I'll still be waiting."
And maybe that was the part that scared her most.
That she didn't know how to stop.