Gemotions

"The Duchess's Delight" was the hottest pastry in town. Every morning, the lines for the bakery, owned by her former best friend, stretched around the block. Eleanor, seeing the sign, felt a sharp pang of something akin to betrayal. It had been her idea, the combination of flavors, the secret ingredient, all born from late-night conversations and shared dreams.

She stood across the street, watching the happy customers emerge, each clutching a pink box filled with the confection. She could practically taste the sweetness, tinged with a bitterness of her own. She considered approaching her, confronting her, but the words died in her throat.

Instead, she turned and walked away, the morning sun suddenly feeling cold against her skin.