Elizan POV
I opened the door to my house and the door squeaked as I closed it behind me.
“I’m home,” my announcement was met with silence.
I sighed. What did I expect? For her to come meet me with open arms and confess that she misses me?
I walked through the house and made my wall to my mother’s bedroom. I knocked on the door but there was no answer. I opened the door and found my mother lying across the bed with an open book on her stomach. She almost reminded me of Rayah. I walked beside her bed. Wrinkles were beginning to form on her face as a few gray strands had already colored her hair. She loves me, I know she does. I just wish she would show it a little more. I removed the book from her stomach and set it down on the table beside the bed. I grabbed the blanket from the edge of the bed and placed it on her.
I walked back out of the room and gently closed the door. I made my way to the kitchen and I placed my bag on the floor. I opened the pantry and pulled out a bag of oats. I searched around the kitchen grabbing the rest of the ingredients for making oatmeal. The house was uncomfortably silent, the only thing filling the air was the steam pot on the stove.
I recalled promising myself to never letting Verayah live like this with me. Our lives will be filled with laughter and joy, not complacency and mundane. You will marry a man who will be remembered and honored. You will know me like the back of your hand. I will love you till the day I take my last breath. I won’t be like my father. I won’t leave you marrying a man you do not know or living a life so quiet that the world forgets about me and you.
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“Oh sweetie, you didn’t have to do that. You could have just woken me up.”
I looked to my side and my mother stood leaning against the wall.
“I don’t mind. Besides you’re getting older you should sleep more.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Silence filled the air between us. I stirred the oats and watched as they began to expand. A knock echoed throughout the house.
“I’ll get it,” my mother said.
Soon I heard two sets of footsteps. I placed a lid on top of the pot and turned around to find my grandfather walking behind my mother.
My grandfather's long white beard almost covered his smile, “You made it back. How has school been?”
I smiled back, “It’s been great. I’m passing all of my classes.”
He stopped at the counter in front of me, “That’s great. You know what that means right?”
“Graduation.”
“Yes, you’ll be a full-grown man and a married one.”
I turned back around and began stirring the pot, “That’s what I’m hoping for the most.”
“I’m also happy that you grew to like Verayah. I remember when you were so suspicious of her before.”
I recalled when Verayah only focus was on plants and animals. She loved to study them, she still does but she also tamed her obsession a little bit. “Yeah, I was.”
“Hm, and has she grown to reciprocate your feelings?”
I stopped stirring the pot. To be honest, I wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about me. She never expressed romantic interest or showed any signs of developing a crush but she always showed she cared for me. And that was enough.
“She’s focusing a lot on her studies,” I answered.
“So, she still has her face in a book. It’s no worries, romantic feelings form differently for everyone.”
“I’m not worried about it. Besides, I want her to succeed in her aspiration of becoming a healer.”