Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Oh, well, I thought she was…kind.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Kind? That’s it? That’s all you felt?”
“Yes,” I replied. “She was kind.”
And beautiful, and charming, and funny, and clever, and smart, and yes…
Kind.
6
Kierra
Sometimes I wondered if I hated marriage as a whole, or if I’d only hated the marriage I was in.
My husband didn’t see me, even when I was standing right in front of him, begging for his attention. I didn’t beg much anymore, of course. He seemed so disconnected that it felt pointless. But we always had weekend dinners together at home. Lena didn’t cook over the weekends, so I loved to take on the task. Ava always requested her favorite meals for the weekends, and I’d spend hours cooking up a storm to make everything come together.
Henry often mentioned how he preferred Lena’s cooking over mine, but Ava thought I was the greatest chef in the world. I doubted Ava truly believed that, but she acted like she did.
“This is amazing, Mom,” she swore that Saturday evening as she shoved a forkful of meat loaf into her mouth. “The best you’ve ever made.”
Smiling, I thanked her for the compliment—the same compliment she gave me each time I made anything for her.
I wondered what made that girl so sweet. She sure didn’t take after her father in that respect.
I also wondered when my heart would stop tugging from bliss whenever she called me Mom. When I first met Henry and Ava, she was a five-year-old. The two were at dinner in an old diner where I used to work, and I couldn’t take my eyes off sweet Ava. Everything about her seemed so adorably gentle.
And then she spilled her chocolate milk all over the table—and into Henry’s lap.
“Whoa, buddy!” Henry remarked, leaping up and shaking off his pants.
With haste, I hurried over with rags to help clean up the mess. I began wiping down the table as Henry muttered an apology for the spill.
“Yeah, sowwy,” Ava said, showcasing her two missing front teeth. She then frowned and picked up the cup that she’d knocked over.
“No worries. Spills happen in life. It’s just a matter of how fast we can clean them up,” I said before turning toward Henry. I held a clean rag out toward him.
He smiled, and it felt so safe and genuine. “Thank you…um—”
“Kierra,” I said.
He nodded as he began to wipe down his pants. “Thank you, Kierra.”
“I’m Ava!” the little girl remarked loudly. “And my dad doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
I laughed as Henry shot her a stern look. “Ava!”
“What?” She shrugged. “You told me to say that when she came back ova.”
I placed a hand against my hip. “So, was the spilling of the chocolate milk all part of the plan? And she was playing your wingwoman?”
Henry laughed. “No, but I did mention that you were beautiful.”
“Give her your numba, Dad,” Ava said. What a good wingwoman she’d been.
For the next few years, she’d called me Kierra until the day Henry and I got married. As we ate dinner at the reception, Ava leaned over and asked if she could call me Mom now that we’d said “I do.”
I cried as I pulled her into my arms.
That was officially the best day of my life.
And ever since, every time she said, “Mom,” I melted a little more into the promise of being her forever.
I often wondered if I would’ve stayed so long if it weren’t for Ava. I wondered if I would’ve said yes to Henry when he proposed. I wondered if I would’ve felt pulled toward Henry at all. I wondered if I would’ve left when he first raised his voice at me. I wondered if I would’ve packed my bags when he cussed me out and grabbed my wrist too tightly. Heck, I wondered if I would’ve left after the first date when I didn’t feel butterflies. But none of those wonders mattered because I didn’t only fall in love with Henry; I fell in love with his daughter. I knew if I let go of Henry, I’d have to let go of Ava, too. That was too much of a risk for me.
Besides, if Henry’s cruelty was directed at me and not Ava, I would be fine with his harsh words and critiques. I’d rather it be me than my daughter any day. I could handle Henry’s bad mood and cutting remarks if that meant Ava didn’t have to.
And besides, even though Henry wasn’t good to me, he did love his daughter, and Ava loved her father, too. She looked up to Henry as if he were the greatest man in the world. I never wanted that to change for her.
“It’s a little dry,” Henry mentioned as he cut into his slice of meat loaf.
I passed him the gravy.
He thanked me and poured more than enough over his slice.