Secrets That Remain: The Untold [Book 1]

Chapter 15: Days and Headaches

It is six in the morning and I can't take my eyes off the laptop screen. Why? Because binge-watching under 3-stars show is my new hobby. I don't know why I am doing this—maybe to just waste my time, to procrastinate till the end, or maybe to just make my life a bit more difficult, as they say... to add the thrill—I am not sure myself but whatever it is, it does give me an instant rise of dopamine.

Ever since Omma left on her business trip, I have been the in-charge of our breakfasts and grocery list. The past few days have been very introspective for me and forced me to do a lot of self-analysis but that doesn't take away the fact that they have been nothing but monotonous to me to a great extent. Same days, same routine everything felt so dull. Wake up, make breakfast, get ready, eat breakfast, leave the chores for the boys, Maddie and Alex Oppa drive me to school, attend the same boring classes, back from school, Oppa prepares the dinner, we have the dinner, and then retire back to our respective rooms. That has been my schedule for the past four days. It feels like no one has the energy to do anything other than the necessary. We don't talk like we use to. We don't laugh anymore. We don't fight anymore. We don't act like family anymore. We are just... living and that's sickening.

I stand up from my chair and make my way to the bathroom. Splashing handfuls of cold water on my face, again and again, I prepare myself for the day. We can do better than this—I can do better than this. A sigh escapes from my lips. After dabbing the water droplets off my face, I take long strides toward the kitchen to start with the breakfast preparation.

We have spinach, eggs, tomatoes, and apples. I have to make do with them. Slamming cupboard after cupboard, I look for left-over uncooked pasta. Lucky me. We do have some.

"Sara!" Maddie Oppa exclaims my name as a greeting.

"Hi. Good morning." I greet him back and we exchange smiles. He walks over to the kitchen counter to grab a glass, bowl, and whisk to prepare his life-essential matcha whereas I revert my focus on the breakfast preparation.

"So, what are we having today for breakfast?" he questions as he whisks matcha in the bowl. Jig-jag sound of the whisk engulfs the morning silence.

"Scrambled eggs and tomato-spinach pasta. That's all we have at home for now." I assert without making any eye contact. I am too busy chopping tomatoes to look at his face.

"That sounds great but Alex gonna throw a fit." He laughs wholeheartedly.

"Well, not that I mind. He gotta make do with it. We don't have options." I sigh. "By the way, remember to get some groceries. We don't have anything at home."

"What should I get you?" he asks as he consciously pours whisked matcha into the glass. He's so meticulous about his damn matcha. "Hey?" he calls me out. Shit, did I say that out loud? Lord.

"Um..." I ponder on the question he asked. Omma will be back in two days at most so all we have to do is manage the last forty-eight hours. What should we get? "Buy some seasonal fruits and vegetables— please do remember to bring lemons, I haven't had my lemon water for three good days. A loaf of white and brown bread, your matcha, I guess you have already used the packet we had," I look at him and he chuckles, "get some unfavored yogurt, a packet of oat milk, a small bottle of vinegar—"