💮͓̽His Mistress💮

Two Women, One Story.

💮Angel💮

Even her cooking was divine. I didn't know the names of the dishes I was eating, but each bite was a burst of flavor.

"Wow, your food is delicious," Luca complimented, his voice full of genuine admiration.

She smiled, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.

"Thank you, son," she replied warmly. "I love making these dishes, and I've had years of practice."

Luca's eyes sparked with curiosity. "Why's that?"

She glanced at Raul with a playful wink.

"Because Raul loves them, so I've made them a hundred times over."

Raul kept his gaze on his plate, but sitting close to him, I noticed the faint flush creeping up his neck.

Their easy closeness stirred a pang of envy in me.

I wished my mom could be like this. I wished she wasn't so hypocritical, so quick to judge.

Our last fight had ripped open a truth I'd been avoiding: I didn't love her because she was my mother. I loved her out of pity, out of a need to please her, out of a sense that I owed her my life.

Yes, she raised us, worked hard for us, but part of it always felt like she did it to spite Dad, not because she truly wanted to nurture us.

No matter how much it hurt, I'd never hate her. But what she said and did cut too deep to forget. Until she owned up to her mistakes, things between us would never be the same.

"Darling, are you okay?" Jazira's voice broke through my thoughts,

"Tesoro..." Raul's concerned voice followed, his hand brushing my thigh under the table, startling me.

I looked up to find all eyes on me—Luca, Bianco Raul, his mother. Their concern was definite.

I blinked back tears, forcing a small smile.

"I'm fine."

"What's wrong, sis?" Luca's voice was soft, his brow furrowed with worry. I shook my head, but their skeptical looks told me no one bought it.

"Excuse me," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I slipped away from the dining room, my feet carrying me through the sprawling mansion.

I didn't know where I was going until I found myself in the backyard, where a stunning pool shimmered under the moonlight, bordered by a quaint flower garden.

I settled at the pool's edge, letting my legs dangle in the cool water.

The moonlight cast a silvery glow across the crystal-blue surface, and the gentle night breeze sent ripples dancing.

Alone at last, I let the tears I'd been holding back spill freely. You don't need to lose a parent to death to feel the ache of their absence.

Mothers are supposed to love and support you unconditionally, but mine turned her back when I needed her most. Fathers are meant to protect and provide, but mine left me exposed to the world's cruelty far too young.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice her approach until she sat beside me. I quickly wiped my tears, embarrassed. "Jazira?"

"It's okay to cry, sweetie," she encouraged softly, her eyes fixed on the water's gentle waves. "I won't judge you."

"I'm sorry if I let the food you worked so hard on go to waste," I mumbled, guilt creeping in.

She turned to me, her sad smile catching me off guard.