I don't know if you gonna like it or not but give it a try. And English isn't my first language .
Images used are not mine; they were sourced from Google. All credit goes to the original creators and copyright holders.
The evening after Kevin left, a sense of quiet settled over the house. My parents and I spent some time talking, catching up on the events of the day, and enjoying the familiar comfort of each other's company. But I couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation, a lingering warmth from Kevin's presence, and a slight flutter of nervousness about the future.
Just as I was starting to unwind, the doorbell rang. My mother answered it, and I heard Chris's voice, a familiar rumble that usually brought a sense of comfort, but today, it carried a slightly different weight.
"Chris," my mother greeted him, her voice warm and welcoming. She had always had a soft spot for him, seeing him as a reliable and caring young man. "It's good to see you. Come in." I watched as Chris entered the living room, his gaze immediately finding mine.
My mother, ever perceptive, noticed the subtle shift in the atmosphere "Well, look who's here to check on you ," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're always so attentive, Chris." He cheeks flushed slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably. "I just wanted to make sure David was okay," he mumbled, his gaze fixed on me.
He came to sit beside me, his presence filling the space with a familiar energy. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low and sincere. "Is Kevin taking care of you? Or do I need to have a word with him?" His concern was genuine, I knew that. He cared about me, deeply.
"I'm fine, Chris," I assured him, offering a reassuring smile. "Kevin is taking very good care of me. There's no need for any 'words' with him." He hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching mine. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of doubt. "I'm sure," I replied firmly. "Please, Chris, just… trust me."
He sighed, a resigned sound. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "But if anything changes, you'll tell me, right?" "Of course," I promised. "I always do." He nodded, a flicker of a smile touching his lips. He tried to steer the conversation towards our last argument, the one where I had walked away, refusing to discuss my reasons for marrying Kevin. But I gently but firmly requested that we not revisit that topic. It was still too raw, too painful, and I wasn't ready to delve back into the complex emotions it evoked.
"Can we… can we talk about something else?" I asked, my voice soft. "Please?" He looked at me for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, he nodded, respecting my wishes. We spent the rest of the evening talking about other things – his work, my parents, mundane everyday things that helped to distract us from the unspoken words that hung heavy in the air.
Later that night, Kevin came to pick me up. He greeted Chris with a polite but cool nod, the tension between them palpable. We had dinner with my parents, a pleasant but slightly strained affair, given the undercurrents between Kevin and Chris.
As we settled into bed, I felt a sense of peace, a feeling of belonging. Despite the complexities of my relationships with Chris and the lingering doubts about the past, I was here, with Kevin, and that was what mattered.
The next morning, Kevin and I goes to the mansion, to our room , a spacious and airy room that Kevin had chosen for us. It had a large window that offered a breathtaking view of the surrounding gardens, filling the space with natural light and a sense of tranquility.
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