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New York, Mia
The soft morning sunlight streamed into the cozy kitchen, painting the room with a warm glow. Today, I had a sweet craving that only a homemade cake could satisfy. With determination and an apron securely tied around my waist, I decided to embark on a baking adventure from scratch. The thought of a decadent chocolate cake had been on my mind, and I was eager to make it a reality.
I pulled out all the necessary ingredients from the pantry and placed them on the counter. Flour, sugar, cocoa powder, eggs, butter, and milk were neatly arranged, awaiting their transformation into a delicious dessert. The aroma of cocoa already filled the kitchen, a promise of the chocolaty indulgence that was to come.
Just as I was about to start mixing the ingredients, my phone rang, and I saw that it was Sebastian calling. With a smile, I picked up the call, my hands now ready to balance the delicate dance of baking.
“Hi there,” I answered as I began to preheat the oven, ensuring it was ready for the cake to come.
Sebastian’s face appeared on the screen, and his warm smile greeted me. He was seated in his office, a world away from the kitchen where I was about to embark on my baking endeavor. “Hi, wifey. What are you up to?” he asked, his eyes curious.
I couldn’t contain my excitement. “I’m going to bake a cake,” I said, my voice tinged with eagerness and the sweet anticipation of the treat to come.
His eyes lit up with interest. “Really? Put me on FaceTime,” he suggested, his enthusiasm matching mine.
With a quick and practiced movement, I placed my phone on the kitchen table, positioning it to capture the action in the kitchen. Sebastian’s face appeared on the screen, and he was now a part of my baking adventure, even from afar.
As I began to measure and mix the ingredients, Sebastian watched attentively from his office. His presence, even through the screen of my phone, was a comforting and encouraging one. It was as though he was right there with me, sharing in the joy of creating something sweet and delicious.
I started by sifting the flour and cocoa powder together, creating a velvety mixture that promised the deep, rich flavor of the cake. The eggs and sugar were whisked to perfection, their textures blending into a silky, pale ribbon.
Sebastian, his gaze unwavering, offered words of encouragement and guidance as I carefully added the melted butter and milk to the batter. His suggestions and observations were a welcome addition to the baking process, reminding me that I was not alone in my culinary journey.
As the batter was mixed and poured into the prepared cake pans, I could feel the sweet aroma of chocolate enveloping the kitchen. The scent was intoxicating, a prelude to the decadence that was about to come. My heart swelled with anticipation, and I couldn’t help but share my excitement with Sebastian.
“Look at this, it’s going to be amazing,” I said, placing my phone closer to the cake pans for his virtual inspection.
Sebastian’s eyes lit up with delight. “It already looks incredible,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth and admiration.
As the cakes baked in the oven, Sebastian and I chatted about our day and the plans for the week ahead. His presence, even from a distance, brought a sense of togetherness, a reminder that love could bridge any gap, no matter the miles that separated us.
Before I knew it, the cakes were ready. I carefully removed them from the oven, their tops golden and inviting. Sebastian applauded my baking skills from the other end of the call, and I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for his unwavering support.
The final touches included a generous layer of velvety chocolate frosting, a simple yet essential step that transformed the cake into a work of art. As I spread the frosting and added a few decorative swirls, I couldn’t wait to indulge in the final result.
With the cake now complete, I held up my phone, presenting the finished creation to Sebastian. “Ta-da! What do you think?” I asked, my eyes sparkling with delight.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
Sebastian’s admiration was evident in his voice. “It looks incredible, Mia. I wish I could be there to enjoy it with you.”
“I wished you were here to enjoy it with me too,” I told him, my voice tinged with longing as I gazed out of the window at the breathtaking sunset. The hues of orange and pink painted the sky, casting a warm, serene glow over the horizon. I knew Sebastian would have appreciated this picturesque moment as much as I did.
“Anyway, I need to hang up. I’ll clean the kitchen before Bella comes home,” I said, reluctantly tearing my gaze away from the mesmerizing scene outside. Sebastian, on the other end of the call, understood. He nodded and replied, “Alright then, talk to you later.” With a sense of finality, our conversation came to an end.
I set my phone aside and turned my attention to the freshly baked cake that sat on the kitchen counter. The sweet aroma of vanilla and chocolate wafted through the air, tantalizing my senses. It was a simple pleasure, but one that brought immense joy. As I cut a small slice for myself, I couldn’t help but savor the anticipation of sharing it with my best friend, Bella, once she returned home.
The first bite of the cake was pure bliss. Its moist texture and rich flavor were a testament to my improving baking skills, a hobby I had picked up during my pregnancy. Each bite felt like a reward, a small indulgence in the midst of my daily routine.
After finishing my slice of cake, I gathered the dirty dishes and began to clean the kitchen. The soothing sound of running water and the repetitive motion of washing dishes offered a moment of reflection. It was in these quiet moments that I missed Sebastian the most. He had been my confidant, my partner in both good and bad times, and the father of our unborn child.
As I wiped the last plate and placed it in the drying rack, I decided to leave a slice of cake in the microwave for Bella. She had been a tremendous source of support throughout my pregnancy, and I wanted to surprise her with a little treat as a token of my appreciation.
Leaving the kitchen behind, I entered the living room. The soft, muted tones of the furniture and the warm, cozy ambiance enveloped me. It was a stark contrast to the turbulent years I had experienced before. No more drama, no more stress; my life had settled into a peaceful rhythm. Finally, I could enjoy the precious moments of my pregnancy without the constant turmoil that had once plagued my existence.
As I settled into the comfortable armchair, I rested my hand on my growing belly, feeling the gentle kicks of my unborn child. I smiled, filled with gratitude for the serenity that had become my life. Pregnancy had brought with it a sense of purpose and a renewed appreciation for the simple joys.
The sound of the front door opening and closing announced Bella’s arrival. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had,” she said, her voice a mix of exhaustion and excitement.
I gestured to the cake in the microwave and said, “I baked this for you. It’s a little reward for all your hard work today.”
Bella’s tired expression transformed into one of delight. She rushed over to the microwave, retrieved the slice of cake, and took a bite. “Oh, this is heavenly,” she exclaimed, savoring the sweet flavor. “You’re the best friend ever.”