Sugar, Spice & Secrets

51

Sleepless nights became the norm as Zoe, Laura, and I worked tirelessly on perfecting our recipes for the upcoming competition. We spent countless hours experimenting with flavors, textures, and presentation, each of us pouring our hearts and souls into every creation.

As the days passed, nights turned into mornings as we toiled away in the kitchen. But even as we poured our hearts and souls into our work, the slow days at the bakery continued.

Whenever I made my way home in the wee hours, the streets lay silent and still, save for the occasional bark of a nocturnal dog. I would tiptoe through the door, my movements deliberate and quiet, careful not to disturb my sleeping parents as I made my way to my room.

Meanwhile, Gabriele had been busy with his own, his schedule filled with meetings and appointments that left little time for us to spend together. The timing never seemed to align, with our conversations reduced to hurried phone calls snatched between his meetings. And when he finally had time off, he's either sleepy or I'm busy.

With just a day left until the competition, my anxiety levels were reaching new heights. But to say I was simply anxious would be an understatement. In truth, I was downright terrified.

The pressure to perform, to prove myself worthy of the opportunity presented to me, was overwhelming. Every recipe, every technique, every detail had been meticulously planned and executed, yet doubts gnawed at the edges of my confidence, casting shadows of uncertainty over our preparations.

What if our dishes weren't good enough? What if we failed to impress the judges? What if we forgot a crucial ingredient? What if I let everyone down, including myself?

Perhaps the most terrifying thought of all was the fear of letting down Zoe and Laura down, especially with all the nights they stayed up with me.

"I am scared, guys," I confessed to Zoe and Laura as we sat in the backseat of a cab, on our way to the nearest hotel to the competition venue. "What if we're not ready? What if we fail?"

Laura reached out, her hand finding mine. "We've put our hearts and souls into this, Julie," she reassured me. "We've done everything we can to prepare, and that's all we can ask of ourselves."

Zoe nodded in agreement, her expression determined as rest her head on my shoulder . "We didn't come this far to back down now," she declared, her voice filled with conviction.

"Nobody even knows us or our bakery," I muttered, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them.

The fear of failure loomed large in my mind, fueled by the nagging suspicion that our efforts would go unnoticed amidst the sea of competitors.

"Our people know us. We know ourselves. Julie, relax." Laura chuckled. "No one's pressuring us to take the trophy. We're just going there to have fun. Okay?"

I remained silent for a moment, allowing their words to sink in. A knot of anxiety still clenched tightly in my chest, refusing to loosen its grip.

As we rode in silence, my mind raced with questions and doubts, each one more insistent than the last. I found myself biting the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit that had resurfaced many times.

"Is Gabriele coming to watch you?" Zoe's question cut through the quiet, her tone gentle yet probing.

I shrugged. "He said he would," I admitted reluctantly.

"But..." She prompted, sensing the hesitation in my response.

I rolled my eyes as my concerns began spilling out in a rush of words. "But he's been so busy with his work," I explained, frustration lacing my tone. "We barely even get enough time to chat, let alone talk about the competition. He promised but I'd totally understand if he doesn't show up."