A firm believer in "Exes can be friends," Chassie Lewis has proven everyone thinking otherwise wrong. For almost four years now, she's been happily divorced from her ex-husband, Nathaniel Forester. The sparks had flown and crashed between them a lon...
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Chassie George
I felt a scowl formed on my face as I set the pan out of the oven and onto the counter. Twenty minutes ago, the chicken had looked like a chicken. Now it just looks like a roadkill. A freaking roadkill!
The new beginner's cookbook stared at me with the perfect picture of the supposed "picturesque dinner" I've redone probably five times in a row.
I gritted my teeth moodily.
"It looks better than the first though, mommy," Ethan says comfortingly. He had been in the kitchen the entire time I was cooking which is all day, offering me emotional support.
Frustration boiled in my chest. I fiddled with my engagement ring, struggling to stifle a weepy sniff because I've always had this stupid urge to cry over little things these days. I thought it had just been the stress from planning the wedding, but when I missed my period, I had to see my doctor.
Sure enough, the baby brother I promised Ethan had been fulfilled.
I'm pregnant.
An exasperated sob clogged my throat. The hormones had been driving me nuts and so emotionally fragile.
"Mommy?"
I blink, my train of thoughts vanishing.
Ethan offered me a smile. "It's okay. I still love you."
My heart melted at that. It hadn't reduced the pricking in my eyes though. If anything, it had just made me want to cry more.
"Daddy will be home soon to help us out. We can try another recipe."
I nod, drawing him close. I hugged him tightly, willing the disappointed tears to go away.
"Mommy, are you okay?" He asks a little breathlessly.
"Yeah, mommy just needed a hug."
He lets me hold him for a while until the sound of Nathan's car comes groaning into a stop. Ethan happily hops off the bar stool. "It's daddy, mommy. We'll make dinner together."
"No, actually, I'm a little tired. I'm just going to clean up." I forced a smile.
Ethan nods then races out of the kitchen.
I'm left with dirty pots and pans that were brand new looking during my first attempt. A couple of disasters later, they were hideous. Hours of slaving away in the kitchen and all I got is a roadkill.
An angry tear made a hot trail down my cheek. I wipe it quickly.
I hear Nathan's voice melding in with Ethan's. I panicked as another tear spilled from my eyes, followed by another.
Breathing out a curse, I slipped into our bedroom to calm myself down. When the tears hadn't subsided, I turn to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
