L̸͟͞o̸͟͞c̸͟͞k̸͟͞e̸͟͞d̸͟͞ A̸͟͞w̸͟͞a̸͟͞y̸͟͞❀

Chapter 33

                          ❝𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡❞

After an amazing night of sleep that he hadn't experienced in three years, Richard awoke feeling rejuvenated. The weight of sleepless nights and restless thoughts had finally lifted, leaving him with a sense of clarity and energy that he had long forgotten. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room, and he took a moment to simply bask in the tranquility of the morning.

He turned to his side and saw his lovely girl resting peacefully. Her chest rose and fell gently with each breath, a rhythmic reminder of her presence that filled him with warmth. Propping himself up on his elbow, he admired her serene slumber. The gentle sound of her snores, soft and endearing, filled the air, creating a comforting soundtrack to the morning. Her tousled hair was scattered across the pillow, a wild halo that framed her face, and a few strands had fallen across her cheek. He couldn't help but smile as he tenderly brushed them aside with his finger, careful not to disturb her peaceful state.

It still felt surreal to him. She was right there, beside him, peacefully sleeping in their cozy home, a place that had become a sanctuary for both of them. The walls, adorned with memories of laughter and love, seemed to echo the joy that filled his heart. He marveled at how far they had come, how their lives had intertwined in such a beautiful way, and how this moment felt like a dream come true.

After gazing at her for a few more moments, Richard decided it was time to rise and prepare a delightful meal for his sleeping beauty. He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to make a sound that might wake her. The kitchen awaited him, and he could already envision the breakfast spread he wanted to create. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of warm pancakes and danced in his mind, making his stomach rumble in anticipation.

As he moved about the kitchen, he felt a sense of purpose and excitement. He gathered the ingredients, humming softly to himself, the melody a reflection of his happiness. The clinking of pots and pans became a symphony of morning cheer, and he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved these simple moments—cooking for her, nurturing their bond, and creating memories that would last a lifetime.

With each flip of the pancake and each slice of fruit, he imagined her waking up to the delicious smells wafting through the air.

While he was busy in the kitchen, little Amy woke up, feeling a bit disoriented at first. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room, and for a moment, she struggled to remember where she was. But then it hit her—she was going to be living with Richard in his lovely home! The realization washed over her like a warm wave, and a small smile crept onto her face as she recalled the laughter and memo they had shared in the past. Her old friend was back in her life, and the thought filled her with a sense of comfort and excitement.

Noticing the empty space beside her, she started to get out of bed, her little feet swinging over the edge as she prepared to look for her friend in her new surroundings. Just then, the door swung open, and in walked Richard with a tray in hand, his face beaming with pride.

"No need to get up, little one. I'm here," he said, approaching the bed with a warm smile that lit up his entire face. His eyes sparkled with delight as he set the tray down beside her, revealing a delightful spread of fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, fresh strawberries, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream.

"Look, I made you breakfast in bed!" he beamed, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he watched her gaze at the delicious spread he prepared. Amy's mouth watered with anticipation, her eyes wide with wonder at the sight of the colorful feast before her.

"Thank you, Richard!" she chirped sweetly, her voice a melody of gratitude that made his heart swell with joy at her adorable charm. The way she beamed up at him, her cheeks slightly flushed with excitement, made all the effort he had put into the breakfast worthwhile.

Before she could bring the fork to her mouth, he gently stopped her and took the fork, loaded with food, to feed her instead. She gazed at him, a bit puzzled, her brow furrowing as she tried to process the unexpected gesture.

"Remember how I used to feed you like this back in the day?" he asked, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

"But Richard, I'm a big girl now! I can do it myself," she protested, pouting slightly, feeling a bit like a toddler caught in a moment of regression. The fork dangled in the air, a symbol of the playful intimacy they once shared, and she felt a mix of annoyance and warmth at the same time.

"I know you're all grown up, but you'll always be my little Amy," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "Now, just open wide and let me help you. You might end up making a mess if you try it on your own," he added with a teasing smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

A swirl of embarrassment and irritation bubbled up inside her because he still viewed her as a child, thinking she would spill food everywhere. The thought of being coddled like that made her cheeks flush, and she felt a rebellious urge to snatch the fork back and prove him wrong. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, she let those feelings drift away, remembering how much he had missed her during the three years they were apart.

With a reluctant sigh, she opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her. The first bite was delicious, and she couldn't help but smile at the way he beamed with pride when she ate.

After she finished eating, with him feeding her, she stood up to make the bed, her movements instinctive and familiar.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, his brow furrowing slightly as he watched her.

"Making the bed?" she replied, a bit confused since it seemed obvious. The sheets were rumpled, and the pillows were askew; it was a simple task that she felt compelled to complete.

"I can see that, love, but why? You really don’t have to do anything," he reassured her, his voice gentle but firm. There was a warmth in his tone, but also an underlying current that made her hesitate.

"But I can! I used to do this all the time with Miss Angelina," she protested, her voice rising slightly, a hint of defiance creeping in. The memory of those days flooded her mind—Miss Angelina’s soft laughter, the way she would hum while they worked together, the sense of accomplishment that came with a tidy room.

"And she's not here, is she, Amy?" His tone deepened, causing her to freeze mid-motion. The air in the room shifted, and she felt a chill run down her spine. It was as if the warmth had been sucked out of the space, leaving only the weight of his words hanging between them.

"Come on, take a seat in the living room. Enjoy your favorite show while I tidy up here, and then I'll run your bath," he said softly, a calm smile on his face. The sweetness of his tone made her question if she had really heard him right.

A shiver ran down her spine.