Chapter 15

Dinner was served and everybody was seated at the dining table. Dad had taken his usual seat at the head of the table and Mom had taken the seat adjacent to him. I was seated next to Mom and Aunt Mellanie was beside me with Uncle David next to her. 

Directly opposite me were Sierra and Jace. Next to them, opposite to Aunt and uncle were Stefan and Elisha. 

As much as I was sure that my fate did not like me one bit, I did not expect it to be this blatantly cruel to me. Arriving at the dining table last had left me with no choice but to take this seat. On our ten-seater table, the only other option left had been to take the head seat at the other end of the table, and I was not foolish enough to sit there and become a constant focus of attention and scrutiny. 

Everybody around me was eating but I could barely swallow a bite of mom's infamous lasagna. All sorts of questions and doubts had already over satiated my appetite and I was nauseous. 

Did stepping foot into this house after four years feel like a punch in the gut to Jace? How did he feel coming here with Sierra instead of me? Was this place bringing back nostalgic memories? Did mom's food rekindle forgotten memories? 

"The food is delicious, Aunt," said Stefan. 

"Yes, it's absolutely delicious." Elisha smiled. 

Through the corner of my eye, I saw mom glow. Cooking was her passion, and she did not get as many opportunities to have people outside her own family taste her food as she would like. 

"Elisha, dear, is this really the best food that you have tasted? My poor child," said Aunt Mellanie. 

I did not even have to look at her to know that she was feigning a horrified look. 

"Stefan, are you not taking Elisha on dates to finer restaurants? The poor girl should know what to expect if she ever becomes a part of our family," she continued. 

I saw Elisha stiffen in her seat. But she remained quiet. Stefan's mouth was slightly agape. I predicted that he was probably at a loss of words to counteract his mother's statement. 

"I must say, though, that there is definitely an improvement in the food since last year," said Sierra.

My eyes snapped towards her to see her smirking.

"Maybe you could afford better quality ingredients this year, right, Ira?" she asked. 

I pursed my lips together. 

Don't say anything, Ira. 

Don't say anything. 

Every single time in the past that I had tried to argue with Sierra, I had ended up in tears. I just could not stoop low enough to her level to beat her in an argument. 

Uncle David chuckled whereas Aunt Mellanie had a satisfied look on her face.

What kind of parents were they? I could never fathom this. 

"That reminds me," said Sierra, "Stefan and Elena can't stop talking about your cafe. I'll drop by soon to visit it. I hope it's hygienic enough?" 

Too hygienic for your standards. 

"Sierra, it's Elisha," said Stefan, glaring daggers at her. 

"Does it matter?" Sierra challenged. 

I smiled and said nothing. Stefan was about to say something, but Sierra beat him to it. 

"By the way, Ira, it broke my heart when I heard that you had resorted to baking breads to earn a few coins. You should have spoken with me first before making any decision. I would have offered you a better paying job with a more comfortable working atmosphere. You were well aware that I was looking to hire a personal assistant," she said. 

"I don't just bake breads, Sierra." I smiled. "I own and run a successful cafe. To make it clear, I'm a professional baker. It's my passion and my skill."

Sierra chuckled. "Suit yourself, Ira. Try and save the self-respect that you don't even have." 

I bit my lip. 

"Baking requires a lot of skill. Not anyone can become a baker and definitely not as good as Ira," said Mom. A frown creased her forehead. 

"Absolutely. Ira was featured in the Emberhill daily last month as one of the youngest top leading women entrepreneurs in Emberhill," added Dad. 

I swallowed and let my parents do the talking. There was no point in making someone understand something that they did not want to understand. 

"Ira, dear, all that is fine, but why are you still single?" asked Aunt Mellanie. 

Here it was. Just like every single year. 

I was contemplating whether or not to answer when she shot another question, taking advantage of my silence. 

"Is everything all right, dear? I'm really worried about you. Does no one approach you?" she asked. 

"Mellanie, my daughter is an extremely capable, smart and beautiful young woman. If she was looking to get into a relationship, I'm sure she would have found someone worthy of her. But right now, Ira is only focused on stabilizing her career," said Mom. There was a clear edge to her voice. Her patience threshold had always been lower than mine. 

"That's what everyone says when they keep getting rejected and find no one to date or love," said Sierra. 

A searing pain shot through my heart like a bullet and the fork dropped from my hand onto the plate, making an audible clinking sound. 

A lump formed in my throat, as her words clawed at my heart, ripping it into shreds. My eyes cast down for I feared that they would fill up soon. 

"But don't worry, Ira, I'm here to help you. Let me teach you how to dress up better and appear more appealing. This trick always works. I mean, it worked for Elena, and she trapped my brother, right?" said Sierra, almost laughing as if she was engaged in a playful banter. 

Immediately, she continued, not letting anyone else speak. "I'm sure you'll find someone decent enough. Now, I'm not going to raise your hopes and lie. If you are getting any wrong ideas, then I don't mean someone like, you know, Jace's standards, but someone a little decent enough hopefully."

Hold it in. 

Don't cry. 

Hold it in, Ira.

"That's enough, Sierra, you've spoken too much," said Stefan. "Since you have no idea, let me tell you that Ira has turned many heads when we go out together."

"Exactly. She has been given phone numbers and asked to share hers by so many people over these past years that I have lost count," said Elisha. "It is Ira who always politely declines." 

"The food is getting cold," said Dad, his tone curt and firm. 

Silence ensued and everybody focused on eating. Too many lines had already been crossed. 

Mom squeezed my hand under the table, but it did nothing to comfort me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but my insides were curling up and twisting in agony. My heart had turned numb, and its presence was felt only by the dull, heavy aching pain in my chest that deepened with every passing second.