Lonely Bride

Author’s POV

Opening my eyes, I starch my back while landing my feet on the floor.

Damn, did I sleep on the couch?

I looked around to get a glimpse of Eric but found none. I guess bitch left me on the couch when I fell asleep talking to him.

I saw outside the window the sun was about to shine. Getting up from my place, I went towards the kitchen and poured the glass of water while going out towards the patio.

I looked at the beautiful view, how sun rays were mixing with water, creating a beautiful peachy line mixing earth and sky.

This place has been my favourite since my father gifted it to me when I was 19 years old.

It has always been my dream to have my island since my childhood. Though my father has had his island, I used to tease him since I was fourteen years old. I will only believe he is a billionaire when he will give an island to me.

He always waves off my teasing while saying he will only give me things when I truly understand how to take care of what I have.

True to his word, when I turned nineteen years old, he gifted me this beautiful land.

I joined my father’s business at a very early age, started learning the small- small detailing needed to be a good business owner. He was truly my mentor as he never let me take leverage of being his son and treated me like the other employee but taught me things I needed to know.

I never wanted to be the one who got the tag of someone who served everything on the plate ready to eat.

I wanted everything I have to earn through my hard work. Though I had no problem continuing my father’s legacy because, being the sole heir, I knew today or tomorrow, I have to handle my responsibility too. However, I wanted my identity. Hence, I started my company, and thankfully with hard work, we touched the sky of success for the time being.

I look back, hearing the little hustle bustle inside the house.

Walking back inside, I noticed Sarah was peeking in the fridge while chewing her nails.

I know she is an early riser. Must be hungry right now. She has not eaten since yesterday. A pang of sudden guilt crept in me, thinking about how careless I behaved.

It’s not good for the baby if she stays hungry for such a long time.

“What do you want to eat?” I asked while starting the coffee machine.

Looked like she was a starlet hearing my voice but instantly composed herself but did not reply.

She again went back to her work of searching. I don’t know what while I just waited, looking at her back by folding my hands to my chest.

I wonder what she wants? As I can see, the fridge is fully loaded with stuff anyone needs.

My curious eyes were glued to her movement, but her search did not stop.

I was losing my patience as it’s been over 15 minutes and she is doing what she has been doing from the start.

“That’s it.” Holding her arm, I pull out from the fridge and close the door.

“What is your problem?” Her irritated voice came out.

“What do you want? It’s been 20 minutes since you have been searching for something. What do you want to tell me?” my voice comes out smooth.

I know somewhere it was my fault she has eaten nothing.

“I can help myself.” Now she is pissed, I can say that.

“I am sure you can. But right now, I want to help you.” Monotonously I spoke while settling her on the chair.

“I guess you have helped enough. More help might lead me to deathbed.” She spat.

Her mare of word death has shaken me a little, but again neither I have time to take her tantrum, nor do I am interested in it. Right now, my only aim is to feed her and keep this baby safe.

“I don’t know about you, but my baby must be hungry. If you don’t want to tell me your choice, then it’s ok. I shall make what I please and you have to eat whether you like it.” I walked to the fridge and placed the stuff I needed to make breakfast.

Thankfully, she stayed shut while I was preparing the breakfast, but I noticed her thoughts were elsewhere. She was tapping her finger on the table while her inner lip was having a great torcher the way she was continuously chowing.

“You wish you could do the same to her.” My mind mocked.

I bit my inner cheek and smirked at my mind. How my heart and my work sink, at least in this matter.

I try to concentrate on my work but the corner of my eyes is, again and again, sticking to the same place.

‘Her pink petals.’

This girl will be the death of me.

Closing my eyes, I compose my swirling emotion.

“What do you want?” I know she is looking at me and got what I was trying to ask again.

“What do I want?” She counters. thought, knowing very well what I was asking.

“Speak up already. Will you?” My hands were busy making a sunny side up.

“I don’t want to eat these.” She scrunched her nose and finally spoke her heart out.

I smirk hearing this. By now I knew she did not want to eat this, but she wasn’t blurring out.

“Didn’t I give you a choice?” I was reminded of my offer.

“I look up at her flushed face and my smirk brightens.

“Well, you still have one more chance. Tell me what you want because if this chance slips away from you.” I smirk looking at her dove eyes, waiting for me to finish my statement. “Eat what I serve on your plate. And I won’t let you get up till my baby is full.” I noticed a little hurt in her eyes.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

I know she did not like the way I was showing my care for the baby, not for her, but again, did she care for me when I needed to?

No! Then why does she feel bad?

When she said nothing for some more time and looked buff, I asked again, “I hope you will decide by lunch.” My sarcasm was visible, and she noted it, too.

“I… I want to eat ice cream.” She looked everywhere, then at me.

I looked at my watch, which I had been wearing since yesterday, and noticed the time was 6. 14 am.

‘She wants to eat ice cream?’ This time? She wants her first meal of the day to be ice cream?’

I don’t know why, but anger surges in me thinking about what if she gets sick in this weather after eating ice cream?