The Sweetest Deal

RLO

the night. I sighed, turning on my side to put off the alarm. I sat up in the bed, throwing my blan

couldn't wash away the dark cloud that hung over my head. Heading into the ba

rk circles loomed under my eyes, mocking me. I brushed my teeth and took a long, hot showe

and getting up before dawn to start prep at the bakery. Every morning felt harder

d, the world seemed colder and emptier. I missed

even that was starting to slip away. With the mounting bills, the cost of thin

d a floral T-shirt. I did some light makeup to cover up my dark circles and tired face a

exuded everything my mom stood for; her warmth and charm hung

floral wallpaper decorated with fairy lights entwined in fake vines adorned the walls b

, tucked in a corner at the center of the room, a glass display case which usually sports baked treats and sweets.

t cars, I was saving up to get my dream cof

room were four small round wooden tables for two, and three purple single-person

e window, which sported the bakery's logo and name written in flowing cursive. I

as I entered, and picked up my floral apron, gettin

ell of freshly baked bread and coffee. It was in these moments that the

bringing me out of my haze. "Morning Lottie," he said, giving me a small,

s response. He headed into the kitchen to work on the cookies and c

me a little longer than necessary, or the warmth in his eyes whenever he looked at me. I pretended not to notice; the last t

oming in first, "Morning, boss lady! What disaster

lace standing." I said, my mind drifting to t

ting a pierced brow, "Well, if you e

for ideas love," he said, and before long, he and Becca were treading jabs, Ollie coming in to diffu

the first wave of regulars started to trickle in. Like clockwork, at exactly 9:00 every morning, Maggie

rward to seeing every morning. "Good morning, de

th extra butter before she even confirmed it, walking her to her favorite booth by the

face, "You know Charlotte, it's alright to rest once in a while, you work yo

enjoy her scone. As I walked back to the counter, I noticed Ollie's concerned gaze. I could tell that he could sense that h

n't help but smile. We worked well together, like a w

f bread I made, or how many espressos we served, it felt l

houlder and turned to find Ollie's conc

not quite reaching my eyes,

"I'm fine, Ollie," I tried to put on a brave face, but I

g one last reassurance, "We'll be alright, Lottie." His words lifted a weight

t a calm I hadn't felt in weeks. But as I locked up, tucking the keys in my pocket, I

n bright bold letters 'Pierce

knot in my stomac

hell was