A White Lie

“Baking powder or yeast?” 
“Yeast.” (Ugh! But he’s cute, I’ll give him another shot.) “Plain, or jelly filled?” 
“Strawberry jelly.” (My favorite. Yay!) 
Final question: “Gluten-free?” 
“Hell yeah.” 
Dealbreaker! I type ‘Yuck!’, but what goes is ‘Yay!’. 
Stupid autocorrect! 
We meet. 
The hours slip away like the frosting on his donut or the foam on my mocha. 
Years later, when he holds my hands and proposes at the same coffee shop we went on our first date, the answer is obvious. Our sunny ending has one grey cloud, though. 
He eats gluten-free because of Celiac disease. 
Me? Because of autocorrect.

Soham Saha