Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
VIOLET
My heart feels lighter, and my muscles don’t feel so tense after my bath.
Ezra’s mom was onto something with putting her kids in the bath when they were angry or sad.
It actually worked. I feel like a new person until I halt my steps at the mess spread around my kitchen. I forgot I hadn’t cleaned up.
If it were up to me, I would leave it how it is and go straight to bed with how relaxed I am.
I figured I would at least cook Ezra some dinner since he said he was going to the hardware store to get new locks for my doors.
He’s thoughtful to come check on me every day and even feed me dinner since I haven’t been eating much these days.
I open my fridge and stare at what I have.
Lately, I’ve only been running to the store to get something to eat when I felt hungry.
I haven’t been in the mood to fully grocery shop, so my fridge is pretty bare.
What makes it easy is Ezra likes to eat pretty healthy himself.
When I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner for Zayn and me, I always had to make sure it wasn’t the meals that he hated the most—which was a lot, and it made it hard.
Especially when he would complain like a kid about eating vegetables.
At least I don’t have to deal with a damn crybaby anymore.
After making a chicken sausage skillet with eggs, arugula, tomatoes, avocado, and parmesan cheese, I split it between the both of us.
I place both of our plates on the table.
Right next to each other. I stand and stare at it and wonder if us sitting together is too much.
So then I move my plate right in front of his and stare between the two plates.
I shake my head at myself. This is stupid.
I would have never second guessed something like this before.
Why now? I sit down and eat. As I’m chewing my first bite, I look over at the empty seat in front of me.
Then déjà vu hits me of all the times Zayn wasn’t home because he was out being a whore and I would have to eat dinner alone.
Where is Ezra? I thought he would be back by now.
I cleaned the kitchen and cooked, and he’s still gone.
He said he was going to get different locks for the house.
I set my fork down and lean back in the chair.
I need to stop thinking like this. I shouldn’t be questioning him.
I’m in no position to question him. It’s crazy how my short amount of time questioning everything in my life is still settled in my brain, and now I’m questioning someone else. Someone who doesn’t deserve that.
I grab his plate and walk it over to the microwave.
Right as I close the door to the microwave the sound of the front door opens.
My stomach drops, and I stand frozen, hoping it’s Ezra and not Zayn or Rya.
Idiot me forgot to lock the door after he left.
I let out a breath as Ez rounds the corner, but then my breath catches at the pink bouquet of lilies in his hand.
He stops and sets the bag in his other hand down on the counter and looks at me with furrowing brows. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “I thought you might be Zay or Rya.”
“That will stop after I change these locks,” he answers, looking over at the bag. He reaches a hand out and hands me the flowers. “These are for you.”
I grab them and take a sniff of the soft, sweet freshness of the flowers. “Why did you get me flowers?”
“I’ve never had anyone question why I bought them flowers before?”
“I guess…I just haven’t had flowers given to me in a while.” He looks at me quietly with sorrow in his eyes, like he’s sorry. I flicker my gaze away from him. “Thank you.” I take another sniff. “They’re beautiful, and they smell really good.”
“I know you’ve been having a hard time, and I thought a small gesture might help.”
I stare at the flowers again and feel my chest tighten.
It’s such a small thing, and I didn’t even realize how much a small act of kindness could mean because lately I haven’t gotten them.
Something as little as a bouquet makes me feel more than I thought.
Zay never did this; he never went out of his way to do anything to make me feel better or thought of.
I used to regularly do things for him, but I never realized he didn’t do anything for me.
“I made dinner,” I say, placing the flowers in a vase. “I put yours in the microwave right before you walked in.”
He sets down the locks he was taking out of the bag, looks over at the table, and sees my plate. His brows lift as he looks over at me with surprise etched across his face. “Thanks, Vi,” he says in a cheery tone.
I glance up at him, confused by his reaction.
Something this simple, and he treats it like a grand gesture.
Although a minute ago I was surprised by him bringing me flowers.
I didn’t think twice about cooking him dinner, and he didn’t think twice about buying me flowers.
Something so small left us both stunned.
It’s obvious we’re both not used to this kind of treatment, and it’s making us question it.
Have we both gone this long without being cared for in this way?
Are we both used to being the ones who give and get nothing back? Because why do we feel like something so small feels so big?