Bittersweet Love • Sacrifice •

3. 𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣

On this sunny Saturday morning, I was suddenly awakened by the sound of my alarm going off at 7 am. The golden rays of the sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across my room. The room, with its light blue walls adorned with posters of my favorite bands, felt peaceful yet lively.

I had originally planned to spend the day sleeping in since I had nothing to do today, but I couldn't go back to sleep when my eyes were wide open. I immediately got up and headed to the bathroom to do my routine. The bathroom was small but cozy, with white tiles and a small potted plant on the windowsill. As I was brushing my teeth, I thought back to my mom who looked sad last night while looking at our family photos. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, had been clouded with nostalgia and longing.

I realized that Mom must miss my siblings and I thought of how I could cheer her up. Then suddenly the idea presented itself, like I knew how to brighten up her day.

After I finished my activities in the bathroom, I got ready for the day. I wore my favorite casual outfit: a pair of comfy jeans and a soft, oversized sweater. I went out of my room to the kitchen to cook a special breakfast for my mom.

The kitchen was filled with the morning light, making the white cabinets and marble countertops gleam. I prepared pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a cup of her favorite chamomile tea. To complete the ambiance, I arranged fresh flowers on the table, making it look special. The scent of pancakes and bacon filled the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of the flowers.

As I was cooking, Mom suddenly walked into the kitchen, surprised by the fragrant aroma of the breakfast I had prepared. She was wearing her favorite floral dress, the one she always wore when she wanted to feel special.

"Umm... It smells good, Ry. Makes my mouth water," Mom said, her eyes lighting up with genuine surprise and delight.

"Wait a little longer Mom, I'm making you a special breakfast with love," I flirted with her by raising my eyes.

Mom smiled at me and said, "It's been a long time since you cooked for me." Her smile was like a sunrise, slowly spreading across her face and erasing the shadows of sadness.

"It's not that I don't want to cook anymore, mom. But when I get home, I just want to lie in bed," I replied with a pitiable look on my face.

My mother stroked my arm gently, understanding that I was tired from college and work. Her touch was comforting, a silent acknowledgment of all the effort I was putting in.

Yup, I used to love cooking.

Before I started working part-time, I was the one who always cooked for us at home, even though it was just simple dishes but we both really enjoyed it and sometimes I also made our favorite cakes.

"Maybe one day you should open a restaurant or bakery, Ry," Mom suggested with a smile, her eyes twinkling with pride and hope.

"Yeah, someday Mom," I replied, feeling a warmth in my chest at the thought.

We laughed and chatted over a delicious meal together, reminiscing about the good times. It was a very precious moment, and I could see the joy and happiness on mom's face. The kitchen felt cozy and alive, filled with the sounds of our laughter and the clinking of cutlery.

The atmosphere this morning was warm again, there was no more sadness on her face and we both felt happy to spend quality time together. The sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to dance around us, adding to the warmth of the moment.

After we finished eating, Mom hugged me tightly and expressed her appreciation for the delicious breakfast. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a silent promise of better days.