The bakery was quieter than usual, with only a few customers trickling in and out as the afternoon sun cast warm rays through the windows. Eunice stood behind the counter, kneading dough for tomorrow's orders, lost in her thoughts. Her life had started to feel like a slow rhythm—manageable but lonely.
The jingling of the bell startled her, pulling her back to the present. She looked up to find Tom standing at the door, his familiar smile already warming the room.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked, holding up a box of flowers.
"Flowers?" Eunice raised an eyebrow, setting down the dough. "Don't tell me you've taken to bribing me now."
Tom chuckled, placing the box on the counter. "Not bribing. Just a little thank-you for all the amazing pastries I've devoured this past month."
Eunice studied him for a moment. "You're up to something."
"Guilty as charged," Tom admitted. "But can't a guy enjoy good company while indulging his sweet tooth?"
Eunice shook her head, fighting a smile. "What do you want this time?"
Tom leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Maybe I just wanted to see if you'd smile today."
Eunice's cheeks flushed, but she masked it by turning away to clean her hands. "Well, mission accomplished. Now, are you going to order, or should I start charging for your charm?"
"I'll take one of those chocolate croissants," he said, his grin unwavering.
Over time, Tom's visits became more intentional. He arrived early in the mornings or stayed late in the afternoons, always finding excuses to linger. Whether it was helping Eunice move a stubborn bag of flour or offering to fix a squeaky chair, Tom made himself indispensable in the most unassuming ways.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in shades of amber, Eunice closed the bakery for the day. Tom appeared, his presence as steady as the sunset.
"Walk with me," he said, holding out his hand.
Eunice hesitated. "Tom, I'm exhausted—"
"I know," he interrupted. "But this isn't about me. It's about you. You've been working so hard; you need a moment to breathe."
Something in his tone disarmed her. She sighed, untied her apron, and stepped out into the cool evening air.
They strolled along the narrow village road, the chatter of crickets filling the silence between them. For once, Tom didn't tease or joke. He seemed content to simply walk beside her.
"I don't think I've ever asked," Tom said after a while. "Why did you decide to start a bakery?"
Eunice glanced at him, surprised by the question. "It's a long story."
"I've got time," Tom replied, his tone inviting.
Eunice took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I watched my mom struggle to make ends meet. She worked so hard just to keep us fed, and it broke my heart. I wanted to find a way to help her, to give her something to be proud of. Baking felt…right. It's something I can control, something I can create with my own hands."
Tom nodded, his expression thoughtful. "And you've done an incredible job. This place wouldn't be the same without you."
"Sometimes I wonder if it's enough," Eunice admitted. "If I've truly done right by her."
Tom stopped walking, turning to face her. "Eunice, you've done more than enough. You're kind, hardworking, and resilient. If anyone should be proud, it's you."
Eunice looked away, her heart tightening. "It's hard to believe that sometimes."
Tom gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then let me remind you."
Their bond grew stronger after that evening. Tom continued to visit the bakery, but his intentions became clearer. He wasn't just there for the pastries or the small talk—he was there for Eunice.
One particularly busy afternoon, Eunice found herself short-staffed and overwhelmed. Orders were piling up, and the line of customers seemed endless. Just as she was about to lose her composure, Tom appeared at the counter.
"Need a hand?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves.
"Do you even know how to bake?" Eunice shot back, her tone sharp with stress.
"No, but I can handle the cash register," Tom said confidently.
Eunice hesitated before nodding. "Fine. Just don't mess it up."
To her surprise, Tom proved to be a natural. He charmed the customers with his wit and efficiency, turning what could have been a disastrous day into a surprisingly smooth one. By the time the last customer left, Eunice was exhausted but grateful.
"Thank you," she said as she locked the door.
"Anytime," Tom replied, his smile as genuine as ever.
Eunice looked at him, her defenses softening. For the first time, she allowed herself to wonder if she could truly let someone into her life again.
Later that night, as Eunice lay in bed, she replayed the day's events in her mind. Tom's words, his actions, his steady presence—they all lingered like a melody she couldn't shake.
But with those thoughts came a pang of fear. Letting him in meant risking heartbreak, and Eunice wasn't sure if she could survive that again.
For now, she resolved to keep her heart guarded. But deep down, she knew that Tom was starting to find the cracks in her armor.