191


    <b>+25 </b>Bonus


    <b>191 </b>


    Sienna’s POV


    I smooch at the shiny oven door, staring into the mirror. I used to look heavier, but now my face looks softer than it did before. I had not seen such a small smile in ages.


    Liam suddenly slipped my mind. His eyes remained vividly in the memory of his farewell. Something that I hadn’t seen often before had a genuine authenticity to it. His head was gently lowered, his tie was changed and sometimes I could see him staring at me. The man’s gaze was not a cold stare, but a mellow one that made him wish he could remain awake that morning.


    With a slow, deep breath, I whispered, “Let’s not repeat it, Sienna.” Half–joking. The change was so tangible that I couldn’t resist feeling the tingling, softening and gradually moving closer to my heart.


    Then I moved my hands again, pouring the cream into a piping bag. Before the cake was done, I attempted to create some patterns on a small te as if practicing. I observed the white cream whizzing as it blended into center of the dish, creating a neat spiral. “Very good, right?” I said, my mind racing.


    A fresh scent of flowers from the back garden was carried by the breeze outside the window. The sound of birds singing and the asional neighbor’s footsteps near the house was audible to me. Life was sluggish, but its beauty did not diminish inparison to the past.


    I took a deep breath, and allowed the warmth from the oven to gently massage my face. In that quiet moment, I suddenly realised, maybe this is how healing feels. Small things like butter odor, Noah’s morningughter, or Liam’ll no longer look distant due to small gestures and sudden changes. But not in big ways.


    I smirked once more and examined the oven. The cake was rising, and its surface had started to turn golden. Something hopeful arose inside me, dry and brittle but slowly swelling back up into the warmth of the oven as batter gradually thickened.


    Upon discovering that the room was filled with cake aromas, I closed my eyes for a moment, letting small memories of Noah’sughter fill his mouth as he looked at each equally delightful photo. I yearned to encounter that smile once more.


    The oven let out a gentle hoof, signifying that the cake was prepared. And I pulled it out with great care, blowing softly at the rising steam.


    I smiled at myself and said, “Noah will love this.”


    I started slicing cream and chocte onto the cake. I experienced a feeling of warmth every time Noah approached me, hugging and admiring my hard work. I also recalled this time that Liam was sitting at the dining table, enjoying a small bite and looking at me with his soft smile.


    The image is so uplicated that it makes me burst into tears.


    I inspected the cake and ensured that all parts were coated with the silky white cream. It was perfect. I slowly ced thest piece of chocte in the middle and took a deep breath.


    The kitchen smelled divine, blending with the golden sunlight that was shining through the curtains. It was


    sweet.


    I sat on the kitchen chair for a brief moment, looking up at my work with glee. It felt so satisfying, in the


    191


    <b>+25 </b><b>Bonus </b>


    simplicity and significance of making something with my own hands. In the past, I didn’t have much patience for moments like this. I had a life full of bucket list activities, stacks of work toplete, and an unrelenting guilt that persisted for the rest of my life. But now… things were different.


    I went to the sink and washed each piece of dirty utensils. The water dribbled between my fingers, and I could hear the birds outside the window. Every now and then, the afternoon breeze swept in, leaving behind the scent of damp grass and frangipani from the front garden. There was an air of calmness throughout, as if the world had opened up to me.


    The calendar stuck in my fridge while I washed my hands with a towel and fell upon my gaze. Just a few days ago, I wrote “Trip with Liliana“. Waiting. Maybe this was the right time for a genuine break, as Liam had indicated. It’s time to embrace the simple pleasures without hurrying.


    I brought a cup of chamomile tea to the living room and filled it up. There was a slight golden and gentle light, but not as bright as the sunlight at noon. Sitting on my couch, I looked out at the window that led to the rear garden. With a gentle breeze swaying the branches, the faint sound of crickets began to rise, signaling day evening.


    My thoughts drifted to Noah. He could be ying with his ssmates at school now, or simply sitting in ss, staring at the clock and waiting for daylight to pass. Whenever I thought of him, his bright, eager little face always shed in my mind. His reaction upon smelling this cake was almost immediate.


    Whenever I thought of Liam, there was a sensation that kept me from breaking out in silence. It’s not an immediate rush, but a gradual shift in temperature, simr to the morning sun rising slowly but not blindingly. The thought of looking at him again was painful for me. Despite this, the wounds I brought up had been healing on my own during these instances.


    With my eyes closed, I let time naturally take its course. I didn’t care if my tea turned cold?


    I looked at the cake I had prepared on the table with a soft, beaming smile. The simplicity of cooking, waiting, and thinking made me feel whole today. I couldn’t help it.


    There wasn’t a need for me to chase anything anymore.


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    <strong>Sara Lili</strong> is a daring romance writer who turns icyndscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of d’s breathtaking cold.