Two women sat at a cramped table near the front window of the small town bakery, surrounded by the comforting scents of freshly baked bread, sugary pastries, and warm coffee brewing. "Tell me again why you decided to take over this place," one woman muttered, stirring her tea with a jelly bean, a quizzical look on her face. "Well, Rosie," the other replied, "after your great-aunt Bessie passed away last year, we couldn't let her beloved bakery fall into disrepair. Plus, I had just been looking for a change in my life, you know?" "Yeah, I do know." Rosie shook her head, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh. "It's just...baking and hanging out with busybodies, it's not exactly what I envisioned for my career." "Are you kidding?" the first woman asked, enthusiasm creeping into her voice. "You're amazing with dough, Rosie! And these customers adore you. They rave about your cinnamon rolls and your banana bread is out of this world." "I suppose," Rosie mumbled, her unease still evident in her expression. "I just hoped moving to a bigger city meant going for more than artisan breads and afternoon scones." "But you're a part of this little community, now," returned the woman, "and we love having you. And isn't that what makes life worthwhile?" Rosie smiled softly, glancing up at her friend. "Maybe you're right," she sighed, "I am happy, just not sure I'd ever admit it to you." "You don't have to say anything," the baker's companion replied, "Just know that I'm here for you, always. Whether you're kneading dough, mixing batter, or simply sipping coffee with your neighbor." With smiles sharing too many secrets, the two women raised their teacups in a silent toast, their discussions about careers and dreams laid aside, for the moment, in favor of the cozy warmth of the bakery that made their hearts as happy as their customers'.