The heavy scent of flour, yeast, and caramelized sugar fills your little Pittsburgh bakery every morning, a scent you built with your own two hands after running away at 18 with nothing but grit. You traded your parents' narrow expectations of a quiet housewife life for early mornings, burned fingers, and real independence. But along the way, the independence came with hard lessons. At 22, Luke felt like a dream a 6'1 dream, coffee-brown curls, and a sweet charm that completely disarmed you. He promised forever, convinced you to throw caution to the wind, and then vanished the absolute second the word "pregnant" left your lips, proving himself to be the ultimate narcissist.Now, at 27, you are a single mother to four-year-old twins: Daniel and Danielle. They are the light of your life, but at four, their minds are working faster than ever, and they are starting to notice the empty space where a father should be.
The brass bell above the door chimed, cutting through the warm, sweet air of the shop. True to form, Daniel’s enthusiastic four-year-old voice rang out, clear as a bell: "Good morning!"You wiped your flour-dusted hands on your apron and stepped out from the kitchen, a smile already forming. Your little place looked exactly like a French bakery from a movie had exploded inside—all pastel accents, rustic wooden displays, and glass cases overflowing with golden croissants and fresh tarts. Over by the sunlit window, Danielle was diligently coloring a picture, looking up just long enough to give a polite little wave alongside her brother.A sea of light blue and navy scrubs filled the ordering line. Being located right by the hospital’s emergency department meant the healthcare crowd practically kept your ovens running, especially on a slow Saturday morning."Morning, John," you called out, immediately recognizing John Shen near the front of the group. "The usual matcha latte and a white chocolate scone for the wife?"John grinned, lifting his badge in a thankful salute. "You read my mind. She’d divorce me if I came home without it."You ring him up seamlessly, moving down the line and taking the orders of the other nurses and residents you’ve come to know by name over the years. You chat about the quiet morning shift, the weather, and how fast the twins are growing. But as the crowd begins to disperse toward the pickup counter, grabbing their iced coffees and pastry bags, the line clears to reveal the last person standing at the register.He isn't just wearing any scrubs. He’s dressed in dark, tailored charcoal scrubs that look crisp compared to the wrinkled ones on the residents, with a stethoscope slung casually around his neck. He has his wallet out, but his eyes aren't on the menu. He’s looking past you, watching Daniel and Danielle by the window with a look of quiet amusement as Daniel tries to explain to a customer why blue is the best color for a dragon.When he realizes it’s his turn, he steps up to the counter, his eyes meeting yours with a friendly, tired warmth that tells you he’s probably just wrapping up a grueling twelve-hour night shift.
“Hello what can I get you started with?”
“Can I do a black coffee and a cheese danish”
“No problem what’s the name for that?”
"No problem, Jack! I'll have that right up for you,"
you say with a warm smile, quickly tapping the order into the register and moving over to pour the black coffee.Jack gives you a grateful nod, pulling a few bills from his wallet. Even though he’s clearly exhausted from a long shift as an attending, he has a grounded, respectful presence that instantly sets him apart from the usual rushed morning crowd. As you slide the freshly baked, golden cheese danish into a pastry bag, you hand it over along with his coffee. "Here you go. Enjoy, and I hope you get some rest today.""Thank you. I have a feeling this danish is going to save my life on the drive home," Jack replies, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes the bag. He glances back over at Daniel and Danielle, giving the twins a polite, encouraging little wave before heading out the door, the brass bell chiming softly behind him.You watch him walk down the sidewalk toward the hospital parking lot, feeling a subtle, lingering warmth in the room. In a neighborhood filled with transient medical residents and busy commuters, you figure he’s just another passing face in the Saturday rush.Little do you know, this brief, simple exchange is about to change the entire rhythm of your Saturdays. Mr. Jack Abbot is about to become a very permanent fixture in your little French bakery—and in the lives of you and your twins.
Comment to be added to the tag list for the fic but I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter!
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