The Warmest Winter✓

Sixty

Today I had a second shot in my treatment schedule. Dr. Marshall gave me another class on how to do it on my own, as scary as it may look like, and I've made up my mind that I'll try doing it at home from tomorrow onward, and God help me with that.

As I return home my mood is blue. I'm feeling depressed somehow, and worried for some unknown reason. It's as if there's a deep hollow inside my heart and I'm not sure how to fill it, and what to fill. Maybe I'm thinking too much about everything.

It's still early in the afternoon, the sky a mixture of gray and gold from faint sunlight mingled with thick clouds. Is it going to rain? I can't tell. I hardly understand London's weather anyway, but I find solace in its eeriness, for it's a resemblance of my predicament.

Lying on my side, I hug the pillow tight, and another rests between my thighs in a comforting manner. The image of Scarlet and Liam being together refuses to leave my mind, even though at the back of my mind I know she's just the woman he once loved and nothing more. 

Minutes go by and eventually they turn into an hour. My eyes give up and succumb to darkness until a long moment later when smooth rain begins to pour. A hopeful smile tugs on my lips as I wake up, and in my heart it feels like a beautiful promise of the future. 

"Everything will be fine, Kira. Let's be patient." I yawn and rise up at the same time.

And it appears that I haven't eaten anything today except for a cup of tea. Not healthy, I know. If my meticulous husband learns about this I won't hear the end of it. I've been warned about the side effects of the treatment but I hope my loss of appetite isn't on the list.

After getting fully dressed I advance downstairs and head straight to the kitchen. Mrs. Prescott and Lisa are busy cooking while talking, and the smell of baked potatoes and green beans slap my nose as I walk in. My tummy growls, aroused at last.

"Are you okay, ma'am? Do you need anything" Mrs. Prescott asks, her eyes tender and worrisome. 

She's placing an apple pie inside the oven, her attention divided between the pie dish and my presence.

"I'm good. I need to have some water first," I answer while striding over toward the breakfast table, on which a jug of water and glasses are neatly placed.  

"I don't think you had lunch today. Did you?" Mrs. Prescott asks me.

"Um . . ." I pause while emptying the glass of water, and clear my throat when I'm done. Sighing refreshed, I finally answer, "It's true, I'm starving."

"As you should be. You barely ate ever since Sir Liam left," Lisa says bluntly.

I huff a soft laugh. "That's not true."

"Really? Name one moment that you had a decent meal?" Lisa interrogates in that English accent of hers.

"Okay, child, that's enough." Mrs. Prescott shuts the oven while glaring at Lisa. Her expression softens when she looks at me and says, "Take a seat, and let me take care of you, Kira. As much as I hate to agree with this capricious girl, I think she's right this time."

Oh boy. Now you surely look like a clumsy girlfriend and not a wife! My subconscious rumbles inside.

"You'll love the food I made, I promise," Mrs. Prescott says warmly, giving me a smooth motherly smile. But it does so quickly when she says, "You look pale today. Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod while pulling a chair. "Maybe it's the weather. I'm not feeling too well."

Or maybe I'm stressed. I don't really know what's wrong with me but I'm not okay today. If I was in L.A swimming would probably be my option right now.