One Night With My Exs Uncle

EMILY’S POV

“Ouch!” I withdrew my hand immediately from the oven and saw my mitten had a hole in it. “This is going to sting.” I remarked, looking at it in anger. Then I turned to the sink and turned on the tap.

“Did you hurt yourself, Miss?” Dahlia asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s just a little burn.” I replied, although it was obvious on my face that even as little as the burn was, it hurt badly.

Dahlia browsed through the cupboards, and in a minute, she had taken my hand and dabbed it in cool honey.

“My mum always did this. You’ll heal just fine, but she never hesitated to dab honey on skin whenever it got burnt.” She explained, and I watched her. It must have been nice to remember her mother. Dahlia’s mother was long dead and gone, and the only family Dahlia had were her two children.

She never talked much about her children, but Dahlia had been more than a mother to me. She kept the house clean, cooked, and never hesitated to listen to me whenever I needed it.

Although she never collected anything from me besides her monthly pay, instead, being a fashion designer, I made her lots of beautiful aprons, napkins, and mittens, which she loved dearly.

“You were baking potatoes?” She asked, returning the honey.

“Yes, I was. It’s John’s favorite.” I replied, with a blush spreading over my face.

I checked the time on my phone, and my smile grew wider as I stared at a photo of him smiling brightly. It was my wallpaper, and one I was never going to change.

“I baked chicken thighs, too. Want to have a taste?” I asked Dahlia, as she moved around the kitchen, fixing things I had put out of place.

“Don’t you bother. I’m sure it’ll taste great.” She replied as she began to wash the dishes.

“If only omegas like me could somehow manage to get fast cooking skills, then we’d be content.” I mentioned it out of the blue, and she chuckled.

“John has you thinking of the most absurd things every time, Emily.” She remarked, and I seized the opportunity to talk about John. I never got tired of talking about him, no matter how I tried.

“You know, when you just love someone all your life. I mean, I was meant to love John since I was born. He’s sweet, charming, handsome, a perfect gentleman, listens when I need to, and also he’s romantic. Oh, Dahlia, sometimes he stares at me and says he can’t get enough of my beauty!” I rattled on and on, going to stand next to Dahlia, who laughed.

“He says that?”

“He notices everything about me. If I wear a new hairpin, earring, or even a different lipstick color, he knows! And he always makes sure to compliment me.” I said, then leaned against the counter, tangling my fingers together in front of my belly, as I gazed into space.

“I can’t wait for us to be finally married. Having kids with John would feel… I don’t know. We’d shower them with love. Oh, Dahlia, I can’t wait to get married!” I squealed and began to dance without music.

“Your potatoes are getting cold.” She said, with a smile, and I rushed to them, taking out my bento box to spoon everything I had made onto it.

“We have almost everything ready, although some last-minute decisions are still being made. All with my consent, of course. The dress is perfect since I designed it myself, so is John’s suit, and…” I continued to ramble on and on about my wedding, which was creeping up on me faster than I imagined.

Although it wasn’t as fast as I wanted it to be.

After packing up the food into my bento box, I left the house, telling Dahlia to have as much fun as she wanted since I wasn’t going to be back for the night.

I stepped out, and the cool night air ruffled dark blonde strands of hair across my face. My fingers brushed them aside, and I began my brisk walk towards the roadside, underneath the dark blue sky strewn with stars.

“Taxi!” I called, flagging down a cab.

I got in and called out my destination.

In a matter of days, when John and I were married, we would be moved to the large family house.