“It was Mom’s idea,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “She remembered how you always talked about opening a bakery like your grandparents had. She used her savings, her retirement money, to make it happen. I chipped in where I could.”
Tears blurred my vision. “I thought… I thought you were planning to move on without me.”
“Maria, no,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “We love you. We just wanted to give you something to look forward to. A future.”
A month later, on opening day, a line stretched down the block. News of the bakery—and my story—had spread thanks to a local reporter. Inside, the aroma of apple pies and cinnamon rolls filled the air. Elaine manned the counter like a pro, Jeff delivered pastries, and Jaden cheerfully shouted updates about sold-out treats.
For the first time in months, I wasn’t thinking about chemo, exhaustion, or fear. I felt alive. Hopeful. And then, the phone call came.
“Maria,” my doctor’s assistant said, “Dr. Higgins wants you in for an urgent appointment. It’s about your latest test results.”
The next day, I sat in the doctor’s office, bracing myself for anything. Dr. Higgins smiled as she entered.
“Maria, you’re cancer-free,” she said.
“What?” I gasped.
“The chemo worked. You’re in remission.”
I sat there, stunned, joy bubbling up inside me. I drove straight to the bakery to share the news.
“Mom!” Jaden shouted as I walked in. “You’re home early!”
Gathering everyone, I took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”
Jeff’s face creased with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right. I’m cancer-free.”
The room went silent before erupting in cheers. Elaine hugged me tightly, tears streaming down her face. Jeff whispered, “You’re here. You’re really here.”
And I was. I was here. Ready to embrace my life, my dream, and the love that had carried me through.
