Chapter 22: Rebuilding Sweetness
The morning sun bathed the streets in soft gold as the gym crew arrived, toolbox in one hand, cake crumbs in the other.
The old cake shop still bore the scars of the damage—shattered glass, broken counters, splintered shelves—but something was different now.
There was hope in the air.
"Alright, team!" Alex clapped his hands. "We've got painters, builders, organizers, and one very angry dude with a power drill. Let's get to it!"
Laughter rippled through the group as everyone split into teams. Someone brought music. Another brought cold drinks. A few people who barely spoke at the gym before were suddenly laughing as they painted walls side by side.
Inside the shop, Jake helped Alya sort through what was salvageable. Flour sacks, bent trays, some cracked cake molds.
"Honestly," Alya said, brushing dust from an old recipe book, "I didn't think I'd get this place back."
Jake glanced at her and smiled. "Well, never underestimate people who've done one too many squats together."
She laughed, then went quiet.
After a moment, Jake leaned back against the counter, voice softer. "Hey… how's Lisa?"
Alya looked at him, surprised.
Jake shrugged. "I mean, I haven't seen her since… y'know. I just hope she's doing okay."
Alya nodded, gently. "She is. She's doing really well in college—top of her class, actually. Still kind, still stubborn. She's… she's happy."
Jake smiled, his chest tightening slightly.
Alya hesitated, then leaned in and added quietly, "She's got a boyfriend now. Thought you should know."
Jake blinked—then let out a soft laugh. "Why the hush voice? You scared of summoning her or something?"
Alya chuckled nervously. "I just thought... maybe you didn't want to hear it out loud."
Jake waved it off with a grin. "It's fine. Good for her, really."
He turned back to the shelf he was sorting. Smiling.
But his hands stilled for a moment.
Inside, something ached.
She was really gone from his story now.
But maybe… that was okay.
---
By afternoon, the shop looked alive again.
The walls were painted a warm cream. The shelves were restocked. New curtains fluttered in the open windows. Someone even managed to get the old sign polished and re-hung above the door.
"Alya's Cakes" gleamed in the sun.
Everyone gathered outside, sweaty, tired, but proud.
"Alright," Alex said, holding up a frosting-streaked hammer. "Time for the real question."
He turned to Alya.
"When's the first cake coming out?"
Cheers erupted.
Alya smiled, misty-eyed. "Give me a week. And I'll bake something worthy of all of you."
Jake gave her a thumbs up.
"You already did."