Page 8 of Twin Babies for the Pucking Billionaires

“You sure?” she presses.

“Yes. Promise.”

“Okay, but you can call me anytime.”

“Thanks, Jade.” The barista calls my name. “Gotta go. My drink’s ready.”

I walk over to the counter and grab my hot chocolate with a splash of mint, avoiding my bank balance on the screen. Since my social media hiatus, I haven’t been making any money from ad revenue. I haven’t even posted the pre-filmed segment of my baking and mental health series,Bake Your Blues Away.

Ever since the breakup, my life feels like it’s on hold. I don’t know how to get it started again. If only I could take my own advice to stop wallowing and move on. But after dating Ryan on and off for four years, it’s not that simple.

I take a sip of my hot chocolate and step outside the store. The Chicago wind hits my face, making me shiver. I pull my coat tighter around me and start walking. The city is alive with people rushing around, but I feel disconnected.

I used to find solace in baking. It was my therapy, my escape. I’d share recipes, baking tips and personal stories about how baking helped me cope with anxiety and stress. My followersloved it. I collaborated with mental health organizations and raised funds. But now, I can’t even bring myself to preheat the oven.

I stop by a bench and sit down, watching the world go by. My phone buzzes with notifications, but I ignore them. It’s probably just more news about Ryan and Star. I can’t escape them. It’s like a bad dream on repeat.

I take another sip of my hot chocolate, letting the warmth spread through me. I should be posting content, engaging with my followers, but I can’t. Every time I try, I freeze. My confidence is shot.

“Hey, you all right?” a passerby asks, noticing my zoned-out expression.

“Yeah, just thinking,” I say, forcing a smile.

He nods and walks away, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages. Jade’s text from earlier pops up:

>> Remember, I’m here for you.

I type back: >>Thanks, Jade. Love you.

I need to snap out of this funk. Maybe I should start baking again, even if it’s just for me. I need to find that spark, that passion I used to have. I finish my hot chocolate and stand up, determined to do something productive today.

Walking back to my apartment, I mentally plan my next baking session. Maybe I’ll film it, maybe I won’t. But I need to start somewhere.

As I unlock my door, I feel a tiny glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I can get through this. I hang up my coat and head straight to the kitchen. Flour, sugar, eggs—it’s all here. I roll up my sleeves and get to work.

I lose myself in the process, measuring ingredients, mixing and kneading dough. It’s therapeutic, just like it used to be. Fora moment, I forget about Ryan, Star and the whole mess. It’s just me and the dough, it feels good.

I shape the dough into cookies and slide them into the oven. The familiar smell of baking fills the apartment and I take a deep breath, savoring it. Maybe this is what I needed all along.

The timer dings and I pull out the tray of golden-brown cookies. They look perfect. I snap a quick photo and on a whim, post it to my Instagram with the caption:Back to baking. One step at a time. #BakeYourBluesAway.

Within minutes, the likes and comments start pouring in. It’s a small step, but it feels like a victory. I read through the encouraging messages, feeling a warmth I haven’t felt in weeks.

I’m not over Ryan and I’m not sure when I will be. But for now, I have my baking and that’s a start. I pour myself a glass of milk and sit down with a cookie, savoring the moment.

My phone buzzes with a message from Jade.

>> You posted! Proud of you! Let’s hang out soon.

I smile, typing back: >>Thanks, Jade. Definitely. Miss you.

I take another bite of my cookie, feeling a bit more like myself. It’s not going to be easy, but I’ll get through this.

One step at a time.

Just then, my phone begins to ring, and I smile when I see his name on the caller ID.

“Dad, hey!” I answer.

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