Health
Daisy tried to soothe Alisha, unsure of what to say, feeling partly responsible because it's her son causing pain.
As a mother, she couldn't help but feel the guilt and pain, especially seeing Alisha, who is innocent, suffering.
Watching Alisha in pain only intensified Daisy's own anguish.
“Okay, Aunty,” Alisha replied between sobs.
Daisy wiped away Alisha's tears, holding her hand as they walked to the dining table. Daisy seated Alisha and herself, asking, “What would you like to eat, sweetheart? I made pasta, your favourite last time.”
Although Daisy didn't know all of Alisha's preferences, she remembered the pasta Alisha loved and the juice she disliked, ensuring she kept both in mind.
Daisy hadn't prepared any juice, making it easier for Alisha to enjoy her meal according to her preferences.
“Thanks, Aunty,” Alisha said gratefully as she started eating the pasta, feeling hungry.
Alisha eagerly dug into the pasta, savouring each bite and feeling better with every mouthful, the delicious taste soothing her senses.
“I'm glad you're enjoying it,” Daisy remarked, pleased to see Alisha eating and looking better.
“It's really good, Aunty,” Alisha praised, her mouth full as she hurriedly consumed the pasta, momentarily ignoring the discomfort on her lip.
Alisha continued to eat, her hunger gradually easing the ache in her stomach. With each bite, she found peace .
Daisy watched with a sense of relief, glad to see Alisha finding comfort in the meal she had prepared.
As Alisha ate, Daisy sat beside her, offering silent support. She couldn't shake off the guilt gnawing at her conscience, knowing that her son's actions had contributed to Alisha's distress. Yet, in this moment, all she could do was be there for Alisha, hoping to provide some comfort.
The atmosphere at the dining table was heavy with unspoken emotions.
After finishing her meal, Alisha looked up at Daisy with gratitude-filled eyes.
“I totally loved it,” Alisha smiled. Food has always been her weakness, so after enjoying such a delicious meal, she couldn't help but express her appreciation.
“I love pasta too. It's my go-to comfort food. Seems like we share a common liking for it,” Daisy joked, noticing the full smile on Alisha's lips.
Daisy also noticed the bruise on Alisha's lips, understanding its origin without needing to be told. She wasn't oblivious; she knew more than anyone else could ever understand.
“That's brilliant, Aunty. You're a fabulous cook. What other dishes can you make?” Alisha asked.
“I can cook anything. Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it,” Daisy replied, gently holding Alisha's hand.
“Wow, Aunty, you're like a superwoman! How do you know how to cook everything?” Alisha asked, excitement evident on her face.
“Because Alice was always a picky eater in childhood, so I had to learn to make different dishes,” Daisy explained.
“Is that so? He forced me to drink juice before. He doesn't seem like a picky eater,” Alisha remarked.
“You forgot to mention the word 'childhood' in the sentence,”
Both Alisha and Daisy glanced back.
“Good morning, Mom. I see you're enjoying the new company a lot,” Alice greeted, taking a seat at the head of the dining table. He looked at Alisha, who was wearing his black shirt, and noticed her face drop, the red tint on her cheeks evident.
This was the effect he had on her, something he was grateful for.
Yesterday, he hadn't slept at all due to work, which is why he woke up before Alisha to take a bath. However, when he returned to the room from the bathroom, she wasn't there. He felt stressed, worrying she might have run away again.
But when he entered the hall, he saw her giggling with his mom, engrossed in conversation. He decided not to disturb them and waited for her to finish eating.
“Mom, are you not going to serve me your famous pasta? And I have to say, you're going to make her ill if you feed her pasta every time she's here. Since she'll be staying here from now on, I think you should make something healthy for her instead of what she likes. Don't even ask her, because she only likes junk,” Alice remarked, glancing at Alisha, who seemed oddly fixated on her lap.
As much as he wanted to turn her face toward him and catch her gaze, he restrained himself, not wanting to do anything that might make his mother uncomfortable.
“It’s fine. Don't forget that you were also a picky eater, so she can be picky too,” Daisy retorted, glaring at her son for his comment.
With a visible effort, Daisy managed to bring a smile back to Alisha's face. If Alice continued to behave like this, it would only make Alisha sad, and Daisy couldn't bear to see tears in Alisha's eyes.
“I was picky because I like healthy things, not junk,” Alice commented, twirling the pasta on his spoon before taking a bite.
With a subtle sigh of relief, Daisy focused on ensuring Alisha felt welcomed and comfortable.
Ignoring Alice's comment, Daisy turned her attention back to Alisha. "How about something sweet? I can get you some truffle cake we have in the fridge.”
Alisha looked up, her eyes brightening at the offer. "That sounds great, Aunty. Thank you," she replied softly, a hint of gratitude in her voice.
Feeling relieved that Daisy was there with her, Alisha appreciated not being alone to endure Alice's behaviour. She couldn't understand why he seemed to have issues with her choices, especially since he was picky himself in childhood. She was grateful for Daisy's support.
“I don't think you should feed her something sweet in the morning, Mom. Who eats sweets in the morning anyway? It's too much,” Alice tightened his grip on his spoon, masking his anger at how easily his mother was dismissing his words.
“She's not a kid. She can eat whatever she wants. Focus on your own food, Alice,” Daisy scolded, asserting her support for Alisha.
“Mom, you should consider her health as well. Look at how fragile she is, always fainting at the slightest mishap. It's not wise to feed her something unhealthy. She can have it, but in moderation. She won't gain weight from indulging in junk,” Alice reasoned, attempting to sway his mother's opinion, though she seemed unbothered.
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