Chapter 2

I left the gym and headed toward the street. I was crying and anxious; it felt like a panic attack.

Some people approached me, trying to help. I couldn't see anyone.

"Go away, leave me alone."

I sat under the awning of a sidewalk, waiting for George to come talk to me. He didn't appear. From where I was, I could see the gym's door.

My husband didn't run after me. That made me realize that he might not love me as much as I thought.

I understood that this could be the last chance George was giving me. But what if I wanted to stay fat?

I was willing to do that for him. But I needed to see the gym as something beneficial to me, not as a favor to my husband, who hadn't even left the gym to come looking for me.

My crying grew even stronger. I decided not to wait for George and called a rideshare.

I sat there on the sidewalk waiting. George didn't appear. In less than five minutes, the car arrived.

The driver rolled down the window as soon as he approached me. He looked at my body and refused the ride.

"Sorry, ma'am, but my car isn't in good condition. The shock absorbers are failing. If you get in, you and I could end up stuck somewhere. Could you please call another car?"

I looked deep into that driver's eyes. He was polite, but he hid his prejudice beneath sweet words. With tears in my eyes, I wiped the ones still running down my face and answered him.

"No need, sir. I'll call another car, one that's more spacious, clean, and new. Surely you have something better than this old junk. You can leave now!"

I started crying again, and that driver drove away. George appeared at the gym's gate after almost ten minutes. I crouched down so he wouldn't see me sitting there on the sidewalk.

I called another car through the app. This time, I selected a more spacious model and a driver who looked like a generous man.

He was nearby and arrived quickly, in less than three minutes. The driver followed the same route as the previous one, rolled down the window, and spoke to me.

But this time, the service was compassionate. He looked at my condition and asked if I needed help getting up.

"Hello, Candy. Were you the one who called a car? Do you need help getting up from there?"

The driver was completely kind, but I refused his help.

"No need, thank you. I can do it."

I began getting up from the ground with great difficulty. My hands sank into the dirt of the sidewalk, getting everything dirty. I managed to stand up and wiped my hands on the leaves of a tree nearby.

The driver smiled and joked with me.

"A little longer and you'd have started making clay pots."

I started laughing at that joke. It wasn't directly aimed at my obesity; he was trying to make me feel more comfortable.

"Now I'm making juice. Want some? This one kills in 24 hours."

"What is that, my friend? I still have three children to raise. Come on, get in the car."

I finished cleaning my hands, opened the door, and got into the car. At that moment, George spotted me.

He came running toward the car, but I pretended I hadn't seen him.

"Candy, wait. Candy!"

"Miss, that man was shouting your name. Shouldn't we stop?"

"Ah, everyone screams my name. He's just another fan. Keep driving, please."

"Are you famous? Are you a digital influencer?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just joking. But I make cakes, and they're delicious. When I get home, I'll give you one as a gift."

I started laughing again after that driver thought I was someone famous. George was left behind, and with him all the humiliation I had gone through at the gym.

The trip between the gym and my house was quick. The driver was kind throughout the entire ride. As soon as I got home, I ran to the refrigerator.

I ate two slices of chocolate cake, plus three with passion-fruit ganache. I drank soda. My diet was murdered.

That's how I felt whenever someone talked about my weight. After eating, I turned on my online store and started receiving orders.

George sent me a message on my phone.

"My love, I'm sorry. I was nervous today."

I read it, but I didn't reply. I had to focus on the orders. More than 20 people were waiting for me.

Not all the cakes were ready, so I literally had to get my hands into the dough.

I started with the light-colored batters, then made carrot, orange, and lemon flavors. The last batter I prepared was chocolate.

After spending two hours on the preparation, I still had the fillings and toppings to make. I put on some music and continued my battle in the kitchen.

I was still feeling bad about everything that had happened at the gym. But I decided that, that day, I wouldn't blame myself for anything anymore.

For one day, my weight wouldn't be a problem. Nothing I started would be a problem either. Later, I would think about what I was going to do with my life.

But I was so busy making the batters that I ended up putting an extra egg in the carrot cake.

It was fine. It was only one extra egg, and it wouldn't affect the taste of the batter at all.

After finishing the chocolate cakes, I opened the cans of condensed milk and started preparing the fillings.

The dulce de leche had to be ready, along with the pineapple in syrup, chocolate ganache, and strawberry jam.

It was a lot, and the orders kept coming into Candy Cake. That comforted me.

Some orders were from friends, acquaintances, and even people from George's clan.

The wolves in my region were very united. Buying from a business run by a wolf was a way of helping the entire clan.

Whenever someone became unemployed, all they had to do was send a message to the wolf group, and they would quickly find something. Ever since I was little, I had known that this was how things worked.

One of the wolves ordered three carrot cakes. He must have been hungry. I started making the chocolate ganache so I could send his order first, since the cake was already ready.

After eating so much, I didn't taste any of the cakes. I rushed to finish the ganache and poured it while it was still hot over the carrot cake. I called a motorcycle courier and sent it to the customer.

Right afterward, I started making the strawberry jam and the pineapple in syrup. It was the easiest part to make, and I was already feeling tired.

Once again, my weight was keeping me from having more energy in the kitchen. I felt sad remembering that.

The phone rang. I thought it was another order coming in. I was going crazy with so much still left to deliver.

When I checked the message, I was stunned. It was the customer who had ordered the carrot cake with chocolate ganache.

"What the hell is this that you call a cake?"