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Mr. White shrugged his shoulders, indicating that it is not something important enough to mention.
“Let's get back to our discussion,” Spencer interjects. his voice cutting through the chatter around us. I feel a heaviness in my chest and shake my head subtly, hoping he'll pick up on my silent protest, this is not the time or place for this conversation. “I'm surprised to see you here. You never struck me as the type to fit in with these types of people.”
Anya furrows her brow. “What do you mean by that?”
My brother shrugs nonchalantly. “It's a small town, and I know what you could be making if you worked in the city instead.”
She scoffs, as if she can't believe what Spencer was saying. "For someone who was unfaithful the night before our second anniversary, you seem awfully interested in my personal life."
Everyone at the table gives him a disapproving look, except for Alessa. She's too busy eating raspberries from a bowl my mother just placed on the table minutes ago. It’s comforting to see her carefree attitude and genuine happiness.
"I used to love you. It's only natural that I—"
"Enough of that," Anya interrupts with a hand gesture. "I didn't come here to talk to you or about you." She gets up from her seat and walks over to my mother. "Is there anything I can help with?"
My mother shakes her head. "You're a guest, it would be rude of me to ask for your help."
"Trust me, it's not rude." Anya replies with a grateful smile and grabs the bowl of cream from the table and pours some onto the salad plate my mother is holding. "You're offering me dinner, the least I can do is chip in."
My mother nods in understanding.
After they finish making salad, they both return to the kitchen while I sit and watch Anya in awe. She looks beautiful in her simple dress. I can't hear their conversation, but my heart skips a beat when Anya throws her head back and laughs.
Her hazel eyes dance and sparkle under the bright lights, reflecting the pure joy in her heart. Her laughter is like music, filling the room and setting my heart ablaze. I can't resist joining in, caught up in her infectious merriment. But deep down, I know our paths can never align again. It pains me to think that I can never make her laugh like this, because she will never be mine to share those moments with.
The ladies return minutes later. After they’re seated, we start to pass food around the table. I add some veggies and meat to my plate. My appetite has been nonexistent for so long now that I mainly eat just to survive these days.
Anya on the other hand fills her plate with almost everything on the table. I expect her to dig right in, but she tends to Alessa first, adding boneless chicken breasts and mashed potatoes on her plate. My little girl smiles and says thank you before she starts to eat. Anya smiles back like a mom who’s already filled just watching her child eat.
I can’t shake off the feeling that she would make a great mom. Being nurturing comes naturally to her.
“So, Anya,” my mother says as we eat. “How do you like Meadowvale so far?”
Anya gulps down a glass of water. The way her lips press to the glass makes my body twitch. “I haven’t had the time to explore the town, but I’d say it’s a great place. It’s beautiful, and I love the idea of being able to take a stroll at night without being afraid someone will harm me.”
“Oh, believe me when I say Meadowvale is the safest place anyone can be. All you have to do is watch out for the gossips,” my dad adds in a whisper.
Anya chuckles. “Don’t worry, I might even become the town’s gossip girl myself.” She pauses and taps her lips. “Is there something fun you do around here?”
“We have a bonfire night,” Spencer answers, though the question is clearly not directed at him. “We have game nights too and all. The next bonfire night is only a few days from today.”
“Is it okay if I come?” she asks enthusiastically, smiling as if she’s already anticipating the event.
“Sure. You live here now and you’re welcome to do whatever the other residents are doing,” my father answers.
Anya’s eyes squint as she grins. “I will be looking forward to that then.”
I remain silent as dinner goes on. Anya gets along perfectly with my parents and daughter. Spencer tries to catch her attention for the rest of the night, but she doesn’t give it to him.
After dinner, I help clear off the table and do the dishes.
“I’ll walk you home.” I hear Spencer say as I dry my hands with a towel.
I saunter to the living room, where Anya and my brother are. Neither of them seems to notice me walk in.
Anya rolls her eyes as if my brother is a pestering fly. “I don’t need you to follow me like a lost puppy. I know my way home.”
“Still—”
