Desperate times call for unexpected loves (Melisha Tweedy x FemOC)

Chapter 6: The dark side of farming

That night I didn't sleep, well maybe a couple of hours. The first rays of sun slowly peeked through the window, under the attentive gaze of my tired eyes. I still couldn't believe everything that had happened and yet, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I didn't care that much, as if that feeling had resided deep in my heart for a long time.

I uncovered myself with the familiar sensation of cold running through my body. Right after, Fowler woke up, singing like every morning. With a blank expression, I stood up to the sink, pouring part of the jug into it.

I washed my face a little and looked at myself in the old mirror. The circles under my eyes reached to my chin and those eyes that used to shine with the love that awaited me in the city were dull, brown and dark.

Nothing I did could change that stupid letter. Even taking that bike and pedaling to London wouldn't help anything. I'd probably faint at his feet just to watch him grab Maggie's arm, telling me it was too late.

I don't know when I started loving him, but I do know when I started realizing that I didn't. It wasn't pity, it wasn't pain. It was anger, hatred. The heartbreak running through my guts, the betrayal digging into my back, pressing the right button. The button that made me realize that Hugh was not, and probably never was, the love of my life.

Still I felt empty, as if the lack of a love to long for had taken a part of me away. At least I was away from him, at least I would have work to do.

Mrs Tweedy's words were also occupying my thoughts. That uncomfortable caress, those blue eyes looking at me as she acknowledged that I wasn't a stupid brat, that she never thought like that way.

Too many things to think about and no time and desire to do it. It would be better to take care of my tasks, it would be better to continue as if nothing had happened.

As I walked out into the hallway I realized it was too soon. A dishevelled Melisha opened the door, giving me a cold look.

I certainly couldn't think of her the same way after that night, but something told me that things would stay the same, maybe even get worse.

"What are you doing up so early, brat?" She asked, recovering her evil witch posture.

"I couldn't sleep anymore," I responded, putting on my dress, ready for a new day of work. She looked at me slowly, frowning. "Good morning to you too..." I said in a sigh, avoiding any unpleasant response, passing by her and going down the stairs.

As if I already knew what I had to do, I prepared the table for breakfast. I understood how relaxing it was for Melisha to do it. Everything was silent, as if peace reigned in that house for just those moments.

While I was grabbing cookies from the kitchen, her already recomposed figure accompanied me, putting a saucepan on the fire, looking askance at me.

A strange tension suddenly formed. I had nothing to say, and at the same time I wanted to say many things. I wanted to ask again and again what that woman really thought of me, I wanted to hear it again, and I still don't know why.

I rested my elbow on the counter as I watched the ground coffee melt into the water. It was hypnotic, but it was also a good excuse not to look into her eyes, although I was nothing more than a piece of furniture to her at that moment, I'm sure.

A sigh escaped my lips. I had even forgotten that I was setting the table.

"Here," she said dryly, leaving a steaming cup next to me, as if she were trying to make me wake up from that strange moment. I smiled sheepishly and reached for the hot coffee.