My life

Breakfast

GENEVIEVE'S POV

I woke up slowly, the kind of waking that happens when your body feels rested but your mind is still cautious. The first thing I noticed was the emptiness beside me. 

He wasn't there. 

For a moment, I felt relief settle into my chest. I could stretch without worrying. I could breathe without feeling watched, even kindly. But almost immediately, something else followed something softer and heavier. Disappointment. I hadn't realized how much comfort I'd taken in knowing he was there until he wasn't. 

The room was quiet, sunlight spilling in through the windows, warm and gentle. Then I smelled it. 

Food. 

Something warm and rich, like butter and spices, drifting up from downstairs. My stomach tightened not just with hunger, but with nerves. I guess that meant it was time to get up. Time to face the day instead of hiding in the safety of sleep. 

As I sat up, reality crept back in. I had nothing. No bag. No clothes. Just what I'd worn yesterday and even that didn't really feel like mine anymore. I hesitated, then told myself he wouldn't mind if I borrowed something. He'd already given me so much without asking anything in return. 

The closet was enormous. Bigger than any room I'd ever had. I opened drawers carefully, like I was trespassing, and found underwear none of it remotely my size. I stared at it for a moment, embarrassed even though I was alone, then quietly closed the drawer and decided to keep what I had on. One small decision felt like enough control for now. 

I found a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and held them up, already knowing they'd swallow me whole. Still, it was better than nothing. I took them into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the water steam up the room. 

As I reached for the towel, my eyes flicked to the drawer where I knew the razor blades had been. My heart stuttered. I opened it without thinking. 

Empty. 

They were gone. 

A strange mix of emotions hit me all at once. Shame. Relief. Gratitude. He knew. Somehow, he'd known. And instead of saying anything, instead of making it awkward or scary, he'd simply removed the temptation. It was smart. Gentle. Protective in a way that didn't make me feel trapped. 

The shower helped wash some of the heaviness away, even if it couldn't touch everything. When I got dressed, the clothes hung off me like I was a child playing dress-up. I rolled the sweatpants up again and again until they stopped dragging on the floor, tying the waistband so tight it almost bunched awkwardly at my hips. 

I stared at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the girl looking back. 

There was still a dark bruise on my face where my dad had hit me. Angry and obvious. And then my stomach dropped I noticed faint marks along my neck. Hickeys. My face burned with embarrassment, even though no one was there to see. I tugged the shirt higher, relieved when it covered them completely. 

After brushing my teeth with the spare toothbrush I found, I took a deep breath and headed downstairs. 

Mica was in the kitchen, moving around with purpose. Pans were sizzling, plates already stacked high on the counter. For a second, I just stood there and watched him, unsure if I should interrupt. 

The table was covered. Too covered. It looked like he was cooking for an entire group, not just two people. 

"Is... is anyone else coming for breakfast?" I asked cautiously. 

He turned, surprised, then shook his head. "No." 

That stunned me. I looked back at the food, confused. How were we supposed to eat all of this? It felt excessive. Unnecessary. And yet... kind. 

I walked over and scanned the table, my eyes landing on a bowl of strawberries. Bright red. Fresh. Perfect. 

My chest tightened. 

My family never bought strawberries. They were too expensive. Too unnecessary. A luxury. I pulled the bowl closer without even thinking and started eating them one after another. Sweet. Juicy. Real. I lost count somewhere around fifteen, only stopping when my stomach cramped painfully. 

I winced, knowing I'd overdone it but I didn't regret it. 

For the first time in a long while, I'd eaten something just because I loved it.