“So tell me about yourself, sweetheart” I smiled as I wiped down the table, our cake sitting on the centre of it on a cake stand that had once been my mothers. It looked delicious, the cake I mean and I couldn’t help but adore the fact that my mate was a diamond in the kitchen.
“What do you want to know?” she asked as she stood by the counter, giving me an opening to ask some questions. I knew to tread carefully, she was being responsive and the last thing I wanted was to wreak the mood by being too nosy when she wasn’t ready to spill her secrets; understandable of course.
“How did you learn to bake?” I asked, thinking it was an easy question to ask. But by the tensing of her shoulder, the stiffening of her form I couldn’t help but pause in my cleaning before she seemed to relax slightly
