Abby

On the morning of the cook-off, I’m already awake before my alarm even starts

buzzing.

Last night, I hardly slept at all thanks to a combination of excitement over the

cook-off and my wine-induced conversation with Karl. All night, his words

swirled around my mind: “I’m really proud of you,” he had said.

Hearing Karl say those words was so unexpected, yet so heartwarming at the

same time. I can’t get them out of my mind, like a lost puppy who’s found her

home, or a shipwreck survivor lost at sea who has found a lifeline. It’s strange

how much of an impact it has had on me.

Enter title…

As soon as my alarm goes off, though, I pop out of bed and thrust myself into

cook-off mode. Today is not the day to be thinking about my ex-husband. Today,

on winning that cook-off,

been for nothing.

my hair back into a neat

know I’ll be asked to change

for something simple: a t-shirt, jeans, and a

is it,” I murmur to myself, checking

mirror before I head out. “Today’s the day

down the stairs, grabbing the go-bag that I prepared last

to the cafe down my street for a quick pick-me-up

jingles over my head as I step

aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked

lady named Carol,

Abby! The usual?” she

coffee, one

transaction is brief, and soon I’m sipping my coffee, savoring the

down my throat. It’s like a little

and a bagged croissant in the other, I start

John’s apartment. The air is crisp, the sun rising in

I feel optimistic about

alive as I walk, each step invigorating me

when he sees

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