[ A WATTPAD FEATURED STORY ]
•••
❝We accept the love we think we deserve.❞
But what does that really mean?
This is Eva's story; a tale of a wayward girl who had a heart of glass and when it broke, forgot that light tends to creep in through the cr...
⚠ trigger warning towards the end of the chapter. no explicit violence, but the implications can be discomforting.
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“You’re in high spirits,” Vincent observed as Eva sat down at the table and began serving herself dinner. “What gives?”
“What makes you think I’m in a good mood?” Eva asked with curiosity, ignoring the jump in her pulse. Why did she feel guilty? Had she done something wrong again? Was her seemingly being in a good mood irritating Vincent?
“All this food,” Vincent gestured towards the table, “you’re always happiest in the kitchen.”
Eva went quiet at that. There was something about the way Vincent said it that sounded like he was using kitchen as an insult – as if it was somehow derogatory for someone to find comfort in that part of the house. Had he always meant it that way? Eva had never thought so until now – not until just earlier today, Terrence had told her about how he knew baking was her happy place. Because her friend had recognised that part of her as something remarkable, but her husband thought it made her small.
“What do you mean, dad?” Lillian asked, speaking through a mouthful of food, “Mum always makes the best stuff.”
Vincent snorted and ruffled their daughter’s hair. “You’re always a mama’s girl.”
“It’s true!” Lillian nodded vigorously. “All my friends take a share of my lunch at school because they think mum’s cooking is the best ever!”
Eva’s heart raced. What? Did people – especially little kids – like what she made? Not just like, but thought that hers was the best? She didn’t dare smile.
“I know what my wife’s cooking is like,” Vincent rolled his eyes at their little girl, then turned to Eva. “You just went out of your way and made fancier stuff than usual.”
“I don’t know,” Eva shrugged, speaking mostly the truth. But she’d been feeling this sense of unexplainable joy – like she wasn’t so alone in this world – and that something inside her was floating. It was more than just meeting an old friend. It was running into Terrence, but also more somehow. She couldn’t explain it. It was like finding something after so long without ever having expected or asked for it.
“I’m not complaining,” her husband smiled, “I’m glad you’re feeling great.”
Eva smiled and nodded, looking down at her plate and away from his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone though?” He quizzed, a slight frown marring his features. “I kept texting and calling.”
Eva’s stomach coiled and her eyes darted to Lillian, but her little girl was too engrossed in playing with her food and making explosion noises.
“I’m sorry,” Eva said, knowing that should always be the first words to come out her mouth when she’d upset him. “I didn’t hear my phone go off.”
