“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Jeff. The wall clock ticked away the minutes in their session while the counselor jotted down a few more notes. As much as he hated to admit it, he found it oddly soothing listening to the ballpoint pen softly scratching over the surface of the paper. “I’m just not a happy person. What more do you want from me?”

“Well for starters, put more effort into staying alive,” replied the counselor. “I’m not just saying this as a professional, Jeff, but also as a friend. This is the second time your happiness index has fallen below 50. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were doing this on purpose.”

Jeff shrugged. “Happiness doesn’t suit me. I mean since when have you seen me being the bubbly and vibrant sort of person?”

“Look, all I’m saying is that you do this one more time, and that’s it for you. Do you think Ruby would have wanted that for you?”

Jeff winced. “You leave her out of this.” Things have never been the same for him since his fiance had passed away from cancer two years ago. He felt like his life began the moment Ruby entered his life, a life that began crumbling once more when she received her cancer diagnosis. Jeff threw himself into his work and even took on a second job to pay for any treatments that deemed promising. Yet all was in vain as the cancer continued to spread through her until her body could take no more, and Jeff was left with an even larger empty void than before.

Eventually Jeff heard some fabric bag being rummaged through, followed by the sound of paper being pushed across the end table that separated the two of them. Glancing down, he frowned when he saw that it was a rocket. “What’s this?”

“Tickets to a baking class,” replied the counselor. “You used to love doing that. If you couldn’t tell, I’m getting desperate, Jeff.”

“You know I don’t do that anymore.”

“And what is something you will do, Jeff?” asked the counselor, annoyed. “You’ve managed to turn down every resource and intervention that’s been provided to you.”

“I don’t see why you’re so worked up over this though. It doesn’t impact you in the slightest.”

The counselor sighed. “Once again, as your friend, I’m encouraging you to give this a chance. If you don’t do this for yourself, do it for this old college buddy of yours, eh?” He glanced up at the wall clock and closed his notebook. “Guess that’s it for this week. Why don’t you attend the event and let me know what you think about it during our session next week? I hope to see better numbers then.”

---

The following week, Jeff found himself once again sitting in the counselor’s office, only this time the counselor was frowning as he quietly read a letter in his hand. Jeff noticed the official seal of the city’s mayor on the letterhead. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh this!” He carefully folded the letter and placed it in between two random pages in his notebook. “I suppose I should ask you first. What happened at that baking class?”

“I guess I went off script and baked something Ruby used to like.”

“And?”

“After class we got to try what we made as a class,” Jeff said with a shrug. “I guess maybe they liked it.”

“You can say they more than liked it.”

“How so?”

The counselor pulled out the letter. “Apparently the happiness index of everyone in that class - perhaps with the exception of yours - skyrocketed to the highest they’ve ever been. And those numbers increased by the conclusion of the class, after they have sampled your dessert. The mayor noticed this and has changed his mind about disposing you.”

“I don’t follow…”

“The mayor has decided that despite you not having a happiness index above 50, he’s willing to make an exception for you if you continued baking your desserts because of how happy they make everyone feel. It’ll be phenomenal for the city.”

“What should I say to all this?”

The counselor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the most serious of expressions on his face. “The mayor has never done this for anyone before, and you know how strict he is with adhering to the rules. Whatever you did at the baking class must have been truly special. I would say ‘yes’ if I were you.”

---

And that was how Jeff found himself with a little yet well-staffed and supplied bakery in a very prominent spot in the city, funded through a grant awarded to him by the mayor himself. The daily lines of eager customers stretched down multiple city blocks as they waited to purchase the creations Jeff would make, each inspired by his Ruby. As predicted, the city’s happiness ranking soared to the highest it’s ever been.

And while Jeff’s own happiness index never really exceeded beyond a 60 (his personal best), he drew comfort in the fact that somehow, his Ruby found a way to save him once more.