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27. Because I still love him

"Dalia."

Soft hands coaxed me from the comforting darkness of sleep.

Julia.

"I brought you some soup." I blinked at her sitting at the side of the bed. "You’ve got to be hungry, Dalia. You came home with a Burger King meal and it’s still untouched."

Rubbing the blurriness from my sleepy eyes, I sat up. "What time is it?"

"Around nine. Here, eat something." She carefully set the tray on my lap. A big, red bowl of delectable gumbo. Julia was a consummate cook—not at all congruous with her 'spoiled girl' personality. But it was a trait inherited from her mother, Mrs. Mitchell, who was master in the kitchen.

My stomach grumbled in reply as the aroma rose to my nostrils. "Thanks, Julia.

You’re right. I'm famished."

I took a spoonful of gumbo to my mouth, and as always, preparations by Julia's hands were delicious.

"So, how was your first day at work?"

"Fun." I managed a smile. "Geo Lee’s all work, no play, and no lunch breaks."

Julia had a horrified expression. "And that's fun?"

I laughed.
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