The oil popped a few times, and I jumped back, laughing nervously. My fingers smelled like tomatoes, and I had a smear of egg yolk on my Chapter 298
sleeve, but I didn’t care.
I went back to the eggs and added pepper because the boy in the video did. I tried to hum a song, but my throat felt tight, like something was stuck there.
Soon, the scent of toasted bread joined the eggs.
It took me almost three hours. My back hurt a little, and had egg bits stuck to the bottom of the pan because I forgot to lower the heat halfway through. Still, it smelled okay. Like something you could actually eat without frowning.
At least I didn’t really burn anything.
The table was already set. The plates lined up neatly, and napkins were folded into triangles like Caroline did. I even lit one of the tiny candles from the drawer, the ones they used when guests came over. It made the dining look warmer.
I checked the time.
Almost six.
They should be home by now.
I wiped my hands on the dish towel and peeked out the window with my heart thudding, but they were not here yet.
I rushed upstairs and peeled off my school uniform, the collar stained with tomato and egg yolk. The bathroom mirror fogged up quickly, and I didn’t wait for the water to get fully warm. I just scrubbed myself clean and tried not to slip when I ran back out with a towel barely holding around my waist.
I picked out my good shirt. The one with the small buttons that took forever to do up. Caroline used to help with those, but I managed tonight. I wanted to look neat when they walked in and saw the table. I wanted to look like someone worth being proud of.
Downstairs, I wiped the table again, even though it was already clean. I set the plates one more time–white ones for them, the blue–rimmed one for me. Fork on the left. Napkin on the right. I lit the candle again because it went out earlier when I opened the dining window.
Two maids came in. One of them smiled. “Kester, should we-”
“No. I’ve got it,” I said too quickly, “I wanna do this myself. For Mum and Dad.”
They looked at each other but didn’t argue. They knew I was too serious tonight to be stopped.
I sat at the table.
And waited.
And waited…
The eggs were getting cold when the clock hit 7. The toasts were also getting hard.
Did I prepare dinner too early? Would they be displeased at my wrong timing?
But… This was the perfect time we used to have dinner together when I was much younger. Had dinner times changed?
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Chapter 298
I nervously looked at the time again, and it was almost eighth.
My poor heart began to break Bit by bit.
Maybe they were stuck in traffic.
I was slowly dozing.
I chewed on a piece of toast, but it was hard now. I stopped after one bite.
I laid my head down on the table to rest just for a second.
When I opened my eyes, everything was quiet, and the candle was almost melted all the way down.
Then the door opened.
I sat up fast. My legs were tingly. “Dad?”
He walked in alone. I looked around to see if Mum was behind him, but she was not. When I looked at the clock again, it was already past ten.
Had I slept that much?
“Dad? Where is Mum? I thought you two…” He cut me off.
“We weren’t together, Kester.”
He sounded really tired and angry as if he had had a very bad day. But I guess my dinner would cheer him up. That is, if it hadn’t grown too cold.
I walked to him quickly. “Dad—I made dinner. I made eggs and toast. I even lit a candle. You’re gonna like it, I promise.”
He looked at me expressionless, “I’m tired, Kester.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “But it’s still warm. I can reheat it. Or-*
“Kester,” he cut in gently, “It’s late. You should be in bed already.”
“But I-” I tried again, but he was already moving upstairs.
“Get some sleep,” he said tiredly. “You shouldn’t still be up.”
“I just wanted us to eat together as a family, Dad,” I said sadly.
“I know,” he said. But he didn’t even stop. He just walked past me without even looking at the meal I prepared.
***
I hadn’t seen the nice little girl again since that day she showed up in our backyard.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Synopsis : My Stepbrother
