Chapter 4 - The Best Part of the Day

Emma woke before her alarm.

She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before remembering why.

Her phone.

It was still lying on the nightstand where she'd left it.

She reached for it almost instinctively.

No new messages.

Of course not.

It was barely six in the morning.

She smiled at herself.

"Get a grip."

Sliding out of bed, she opened the curtains. Pale sunlight spilled into the apartment, casting a warm glow over the tiny kitchen. The basil plant on the windowsill looked greener than yesterday.

She watered it before changing into comfortable clothes.

An hour later, she was unlocking the back door of the bakery.

The familiar scent of butter greeted her first.

Mrs. Alvarez was already there, tying her apron.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"I wasn't sleepy."

"You yawned before saying good morning."

Emma laughed.

"I'll deny that."

Mrs. Alvarez pointed toward the mixer.

"Dough's waiting."

Emma washed her hands and slipped on her apron.

The routine came naturally.

Measure.

Mix.

Knead.

Fold.

Rest.

She loved the quiet rhythm of mornings.

The bakery was peaceful before customers arrived. There were only the sounds of flour hitting the counter, dough stretching beneath her palms, and soft music playing from the old radio near the register.

"You've been smiling a lot today," Mrs. Alvarez said.

"Have I?"

"Mhm."

Emma looked down at the dough.

"I guess I'm just in a good mood."

Mrs. Alvarez smiled knowingly but didn't ask why.

-

By the time Emma reached campus, the architecture building was already buzzing.

Students hurried through the halls carrying foam boards almost as tall as they were.

Someone was arguing over measurements.

Someone else was desperately looking for a glue gun.

Normal.

Emma found Lily waiting outside the studio with two iced coffees.

"I come bearing gifts."

Emma accepted one with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

Lily narrowed her eyes.

"Okay."

"What?"

"You're smiling again."

Emma tried to look confused.

"I smile."

"You do."

Lily crossed her arms.

"But not before eight in the morning."

Emma took a sip of coffee to avoid answering.

Lily gasped dramatically.

"You talked to him!"

Emma nearly choked.

"Keep your voice down."

"I knew it!"

Several students turned to look.

Emma grabbed Lily's sleeve and pulled her toward an empty corner of the hallway.

"It was just a conversation."

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"What did he say?"

Emma hesitated.

"He asked if I'd eaten dinner."

Lily blinked.

"...That's it?"

"He also wished me good luck with today's studio."

Lily stared at her for a moment.

"Emma."

"What?"

"That is the most wholesome thing I've ever heard."

Emma laughed.

"I told you."

"No flirting?"

"No."

"No weird compliments?"

"No."

"No asking for your I*******m?"

Emma shook her head.

Lily looked genuinely impressed.

"Where did you find this man?"

"The dating app."

"I need to d******d it again."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Their professor entered the studio before Emma could reply.

Everyone hurried to their desks.

For the next four hours, the only thing Emma focused on was drawings, measurements, and endless revisions.

At least...

She tried to.

More than once, her eyes drifted toward the phone tucked inside her bag.

Had he messaged?

She refused to check.

Not until lunch.

-

The moment class ended, Lily nudged her.

"Well?"

Emma pretended not to understand.

"Well what?"

"You've looked at your bag seventeen times."

"I have not."

"Sixteen, then."

Emma laughed and finally pulled out her phone.

One notification.

Her heart skipped.

Daniel: Good luck with studio today.

The message had arrived nearly three hours earlier.

He'd sent it knowing she probably wouldn't see it until later.

Emma smiled before she could stop herself.

Lily: "You're smiling again."

"I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

Emma ignored her.

Instead, she typed a reply.

Emma: Thank you.

Studio survived me.

She slipped the phone back into her bag.

"That's all?" Lily asked.

"What else should I say?"

"I don't know."

"'I missed you?'"

Emma burst into laughter.

"I've known him for one day."

"Fair point."

Still...

Emma couldn't stop thinking about the message.

He hadn't expected an immediate reply.

He'd simply wanted to wish her luck.

It was such a small thing.

Yet it somehow made the exhausting morning feel lighter.

-

The bakery was busier than usual that evening.

Office workers stopped by on their way home.

A young father bought three loaves for his children.

An elderly couple shared one coffee and two pieces of sweet bread by the window.

Emma had just finished placing a fresh tray of salt bread on the display when the bell above the door chimed.

A man in a navy suit walked in.

For one impossible second...

Her heart lurched.

Daniel?

The stranger removed his glasses.

Not Daniel.

Just someone with a similar build.

Emma quietly let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Long day?" Mrs. Alvarez asked.

"I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

Mrs. Alvarez nodded toward the tray.

"Go on. Those won't sell themselves."

Emma smiled sheepishly.

The customer bought two salt breads.

"These smell amazing."

"I hope you like them."

"I'm sure I will."

She watched him leave with the warm paper bag tucked beneath his arm.

Somewhere in the city, she wondered what Daniel was having for dinner.

The thought appeared so suddenly that she almost laughed.

She didn't know his favorite food.

Or where he lived.

Or even if "Daniel" was really his name.

Yet she'd caught herself wondering anyway.

-

It was nearly ten when she finally got home.

Her feet ached.

Her shoulders ached.

Even her fingers were tired from kneading dough.

After a quick shower, she curled up on the bed with her phone.

One new message.

Daniel: Did studio treat you kindly?

Emma smiled.

Emma: Not even a little.

Three dots appeared.

Daniel: Then I think you've officially become an architecture student.

She laughed softly.

Emma: I thought I already was.

Daniel: Now you've earned the right to complain about it.

Emma shook her head.

He had a way of making ordinary conversations feel... comfortable.

As though they'd been talking for much longer than two days.

She looked at the clock.

Another early morning tomorrow.

Still...

She found herself hoping the conversation would last just a little longer.