Book 2 of the 𝕱𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖈𝖑𝖚𝖇 series
{Duology}
𖤓
𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘.
𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚.
𖤓
𝕬𝖈𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆 𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎 got tricked once, but she vowed never to be fooled...
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The sunlight poured through the wide windows of the ice cream parlor, casting soft, golden rays that danced across the checkered floor. The scent of sugar, waffle cones, and freshly churned cream wafted through the air as I held Lia's tiny hand in mine. Her excitement was over the moon, her wide blue eyes gleaming with the kind of pure joy only a two-year-old could muster. I smiled as I watched her gaze sweep over the tubs of brightly colored ice cream, trying to make the monumental decision of which flavor to choose.
"Which one do you want, a stór?" I asked, crouching down to her level. My darling.
Lia's fingers were splayed across the glass display case, her breath fogging up the window as she pointed eagerly. "Pink! Pink one!"
Of course. Strawberry it was. I chuckled under my breath. The girl was obsessed with anything pink At the moment. Her taste quickly turned from purple to blue to purple again in a single week. Now we were at pink.
The ice cream vendor, an older gentleman with a kindly face and a soft northwestern accent, smiled at Lia as he scooped a generous helping of strawberry into a waffle cone, adding an extra dollop on top just for good measure. "For the little lady," he said, handing it over with a wink.
Lia's eyes widened as she accepted the cone with both hands, her mouth forming a small 'O' of delight. "T'ank you!" she said, her voice sweet and high.
I ordered my own, something simple–vanilla with caramel drizzle–and followed Lia to a small table near the window. She climbed into the chair with some effort, her little legs too short to properly reach the floor, and I settled across from her.
"Darren's hungry too," Lia declared between licks of her ice cream, lifting her beloved teddy bear to the table as if to make him part of the conversation. Fucking Darren.
The times I phantomed feeding it and him to my babies Fluffy and Frou-Frou were getting out of hand.
Darren, with his well-worn fur and one button eye, was never far from Lia's side. Yeah, he lost his eye in the washer the other day. He was her constant companion ever since, her confidant, and apparently, at this moment, her ice cream date as well. She even brought him in the toilet with her now. I suppressed a smile as I handed her a napkin. "You think Darren likes strawberry?" I asked.
She nodded earnestly, holding her cone up to Darren's mouth, pretending to let him have a lick. "He says it's yummy!" she announced, beaming at me.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Good to know. Darren has excellent taste."
We sat there for a while, savoring the moment. Lia's face was a sticky mess, pink ice cream smeared across her cheeks and chin, but I didn't mind. These were the moments I cherished most—the quiet, simple times when it was just the two of us, sharing something as sweet and uncomplicated as ice cream on a sunny afternoon.
