The day had started like any other for Eunice. The sun rose over the rolling hills of her village, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Eunice was busy in the bakery, rolling dough for the day's pastries, when a young woman burst through the door, her face flushed with urgency.
"Excuse me, are you Eunice?" the woman asked, slightly out of breath.
"Yes, I am," Eunice replied, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron. "How can I help you?"
"We need a last-minute cake for an event at the military base. It's an officer's promotion party. Can you deliver something by this afternoon?"
Eunice hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "I can make it happen. What size and flavor?"
The woman, who introduced herself as Grace, rattled off the details, and Eunice got to work. By noon, a two-tier vanilla and chocolate cake was ready, adorned with blue and gold decorations to match the military colors. Eunice packed it carefully into the van her mother had insisted she buy after her business took off.
Arriving at the base, Eunice was struck by the regimented atmosphere. Soldiers in uniform moved purposefully, and the sound of a distant drill filled the air. A young officer approached her as she unloaded the cake.
"You must be Eunice," he said, a warm smile breaking the otherwise stoic expression on his face. "I'm Lieutenant Tom Mwangi. I was told you're delivering the cake."
"Yes," Eunice said, smiling back as she carefully opened the cake box. "Here it is."
Tom's eyes widened as he took in the intricate design. "This is incredible. Did you make this yourself?"
"I did," Eunice replied, feeling a surge of pride.
"You're talented," Tom said, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.
Eunice looked away, feeling her cheeks heat under his gaze. "Thank you. I should get going now—lots of orders to fill."
"Wait," Tom said quickly, stepping closer. "Do you have a business card? I'd like to order from you in the future."
Eunice handed him a card, their fingers brushing briefly. The contact lingered in her mind long after she left the base.
Back at the bakery, Eunice couldn't shake the memory of Tom's smile. She chastised herself for being distracted. "Focus on your work, Eunice," she muttered, rolling out dough for another order.
But fate had other plans.
The very next day, Tom walked into the bakery. Eunice looked up, startled to see him standing at the counter in civilian clothes.
"Lieutenant Mwangi?" she said, surprised.
"Just Tom," he corrected, smiling. "I couldn't stop thinking about that cake—or the baker behind it. I figured I'd come to see if you have anything sweet for me today."
Eunice felt a mix of flattery and nerves. "Well, we have plenty of pastries. What are you in the mood for?"
"Surprise me," he said, leaning casually against the counter.
She selected a slice of her best-selling carrot cake, sliding it across to him. Tom took a bite and let out a low hum of approval. "This is amazing. I don't know what's better—the cake or the baker."
Eunice rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Do you always charm your way through life?"
"Only when it's worth it," Tom said, his tone suddenly serious. "And you're worth it."
Eunice didn't know how to respond. She'd spent so much of her life focused on survival, on building something for herself and her mother, that she hadn't given much thought to romance.
But there was something about Tom—his confidence, his sincerity—that made her heart skip a beat.
Over the next few weeks, Tom became a regular at the bakery. Sometimes he came alone, other times with colleagues, but he always found a way to talk to Eunice. He asked about her life, her dreams, and the journey that had brought her here.
One rainy afternoon, Tom arrived just as Eunice was closing up.
"You're late today," Eunice teased, letting him in.
"I had a meeting," Tom explained, shaking raindrops from his jacket. "But I couldn't let the day end without seeing you."
Eunice pretended to busy herself with cleaning, but her heart was racing.
"You work so hard," Tom said, watching her. "Do you ever take a break?"
"I don't have much time for breaks," Eunice replied. "This bakery doesn't run itself."
"Well, maybe you should let someone take care of you for a change," Tom said, his voice soft.
Eunice froze, her hand hovering over a tray of pastries. She turned to look at him, finding his gaze steady and full of something she couldn't quite name.
"Tom…" she began, but he cut her off.
"Let me take you out, Eunice. Just one evening. No bakery, no work—just you and me."
Eunice hesitated. Her instincts told her to focus on her business, to avoid distractions. But her heart, which had been guarded for so long, whispered something different.
"Okay," she said finally. "One evening.
Tom's smile was brighter than the sun that had just started to break through the clouds outside. "You won't regret it," he promised.
As he left, Eunice locked the door and leaned against it, her thoughts a whirlwind.
For the first time in years, she allowed herself to imagine a future that wasn't just about survival—but about love.