I loved my son unconditionally, until I had to protect his father’s legacy from his own greed

“To the perfect recipe,” I replied, clinking my own cup against hers.

I picked up a slice of my signature sourdough toast, slathered in butter. I took a slow, deliberate bite. It was tangy, complex, incredibly resilient, and utterly unbreakable. Just like the woman who baked it.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.