Victoria was driving home from her weekend cottage late in the evening. She had deliberately set off as the light faded, letting the car crawl along the longest stretch of the outer ring road rather than the usual direct route. If she didnt have to be at work the next day, she would have simply stayed the night at the cottage.
She was in no hurry because she didnt want to go back inside at allshe didnt want to see her husband, Mark. A quiet voice inside her had long warned that the roof they shared would not shelter them for much longer. Their marriage had grown cold and tense, flaring into arguments over the smallest things.
Even now, as she stared out at the dark horizon, Victoria steered the car and thought over the strange, strained state of her family life. The outer ring road passed through a tiny village. She eased off the accelerator, and just beyond the bus stop, the headlights caught a frail old woman clutching something wrapped in a cloth, pressed to her chest as if it were a newborn. The woman stared at the approaching cars with such hope that Victoria instinctively pressed the brakes.
She pulled over, hopped out, and hurried to the woman. At her feet sat a small wheeled basket.
Why are you standing here? Victoria asked, worry in her tone. Do you need help? Whats that youre holding a baby?
The woman blinked, confused, then smiled apologetically. No, its not a baby Its a loaf of bread.
A loaf? Victorias eyebrows shot up. What do you mean, a loaf?
Homebaked straight from the oven Im selling it, the woman replied.
How can you sell it? Where do you get it? Victoria pressed.
I bake it myself. My pension is tiny, so I make a little extra when money runs short. Some people buy it; they say it brings happiness.
Happiness? Victoria echoed. What does that even mean?
Im not sure, the old lady admitted. One regular customer swears it does. He always buys a fresh one and says it brings him luck. Would you like a slice? Its still warm.
Bread, you say? Victoria realized the woman probably needed the cash badly, and she nodded. Yes, Id like a loaf. How much?
£1 each, the woman said cautiously, watching Victorias reaction. Is that too much?
How many loaves do you have? Victoria asked.
Ten. Nobodys bought any yet; I just arrived. How many would you like?
Ill take them all, Victoria declared, turning toward the car for money.
No! I wont give them all away! the woman cried, startled.
Why? Victoria asked, puzzled.
Because I think youre buying them not because you need bread, but to help me, the old lady whispered. What if someone else needs it later? What if that regular buyer returns and I have nothing left?
Victoria felt a pang of pity for the womans naïve worry.
Alright then, how many are you willing to part with? she asked.
Five Im not sure I can give more, the woman replied, shaking her head. Youre buying out of sympathy, not hunger. This bread is meant for eating, straight from the oven.
Fine, Victoria said with a small smile. She fetched a bag, slipped five stillwarm loaves inside, and went back to her car.
A minute later she was back on the road when the scent of fresh bread flooded the passenger compartment. It was overwhelming; she ripped off a generous piece, popped it into her mouth, and felt she had never tasted anything so delightful.
Her phone rang. Seeing Marks name on the screen, she frowned and pressed the receiver to her ear.
Victoria, Marks irritated voice began, stop by a shop and bring some bread home.
What? she asked, looking at the loaves piled on the seat. Why now?
Because weve run outnothing left! And your friends have shown up unannounced! he shouted.
Friends? Victoria was taken aback. At this hour?
Youll find out. My three mates are sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea, waiting for you.
Thats unexpected, Victoria muttered, slamming the accelerator.
She pulled into the driveway about half an hour later, carrying the intoxicating aroma inside.
Victoria, you smell amazing! her university friends cried, rushing to hug her.
Mark, catching the heavenly scent, lunged for the bag, tore off almost half a loaf, lifted it to his nose, and stared at her in amazement.
Where did you get such fantastic bread? he asked.
Theres none left where I bought it, she shrugged.
He retreated to the bedroom with his halfloaf, leaving Victoria surrounded by her friends. They stayed up until midnight, sipping wine, nibbling the extraordinary bread, and venting about their husbandseach confessing that their marriages had turned out very different from the dreams they once held. A few tears fell, but the shared laughter softened the night.
When they were about to leave, Victoria handed each of them a fresh loaf from the old womans stash.
After they went, Victoria closed the door, slipped past the sleeping Mark, and settled onto the sofa to sleep.
The next morning something strange happened. As soon as she opened her eyes, Mark was sitting beside her on the sofa, a sly grin on his face.
Victoria, I think I overindulged on your bread last night and had a revelation, he said, halfjoking. Were both fools. We need to change. Im taking you out tonightback to the restaurant where I first proposed.
Why now? she asked, bewildered.
Because I want to try again. I still believe love can be saved. Ill be there at six. Come.
He left, and the morning felt brighter than usual, as if early spring had already arrived instead of the usual bleak autumn. Victoria found herself oddly eager for the evening rendezvous.
Later, a call came from one of the friends. Between breaths of excitement she said, We made up with my husband last night! We were about to divorce, but after eating your bread until three a.m., we reconciled. Thank you, Victoria!
Why am I involved in all this? Victoria replied, bewildered.
The second friend called, then the third, each recounting how their domestic troubles had suddenly untangled themselves. They admitted theyd been foolish to blame their spouses.
After the calls, Victoria went to the kitchen, pulled out the remaining partially eaten loaf, inhaled its warm fragrance, and took a small bite. This time the taste carried a gentle hint of lovelove for everyone.
She realized that a simple loaf, given with kindness, could stir hearts and remind people of the tenderness they had forgotten. In the end, she understood that generosity, however modest, can mend broken bonds and that true happiness often begins with sharing a piece of bread.
