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Isabella

Chopping vegetables for the lasagna, I couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over me. Cooking had always been a soothing activity for me, a way to channel my thoughts and focus on something tangible amidst the chaos of life.

Ava, my ever-supportive mother-in-law, stood beside me, offering gentle guidance as we prepared dinner for Damien. "Now, Isabella, remember to slice the vegetables thinly for the lasagna layers," she instructed, her voice warm and reassuring.

I nodded, taking her advice to heart as I carefully wielded the knife. "Like this?" I asked, holding up a perfectly sliced zucchini for her inspection.

Ava smiled approvingly. "Just like that, dear. You're a natural," she praised, her encouragement filling me with a sense of pride.

As we worked side by side, Ava shared her secrets for creating the perfect steak marinade, imparting her culinary wisdom with the patience of a seasoned chef. "The key is to let the meat marinate for at least an hour," she expla