A Desirable Mist.

After I finish closing the bakery up for the day, I place today’s unsold items into a box to be sent to the City Mission for the unfortunate.

Then I make myself a cup of coffee and sit down at one of the tables in a lightly dimmed corner of the shop.

I swipe my finger across the screen of my phone and unlock it. Tapping on the gallery icon, I tap on the folder that is filled with photos of me and Ryan. There is one photo in particular that I like to stare at because it's the most recent one I have of him.

It’s the photo of Ryan sitting on the back of his pickup truck, shirtless, on the beach with a bottle of beer in his hand. Hues of amber, red, purple, and blue are splashed across the horizon, reflecting off the water in waves.

Ryan looks like he is on top of the world – living his best life.

His shoulder-length hair is tied into a man-bun, displaying his undercut. His green eyes glisten with joy and his straight pearly white teeth are on full display.

I miss him.

Gods, I mis