Chapter 69 From Home
Leitana watched in anticipation as Ravial picked up his spoon and scooped up a mouthful of tuluk, the tender parcel of minced pork and cabbage, fragrant with ginger and island spices, wrapped and steamed until every flavor melted together.
She held her breath, hands clasped tight beneath the table.
He brought it to his lips.
Tasted.
Then chewed slowly and swallowed.
His gaze found hers.
“Good,” he said, his voice soft and low.
Her face lit up like sunrise.
“Yu like it?”
He nodded once, already reaching for more, this time a piece of simboro, the sweet banana and coconut roll, soft and glistening.
“Very good.”
Leitana’s heart soared.
She leaned forward a little, eyes shining.
“Mi make tuluk wit’ little pork an’ plenty ginger,” she said softly. “Like when we lucky back home. An’ simboro sweet, for finish nice.”
He hummed in approval, trying the laplap next, the rich cassava and coconut pudding, earthy and comforting.
She watched every bite, nervous but proud.
He ate steadily.
No wasted motion.
No excessive words.
But he cleared half the tuluk, most of the simboro, and a good portion of the laplap.
When he finally set the spoon down, the plates were noticeably emptier.
Leitana bit her lip, waiting.
He reached across the table, his fingers finding her hand.
“You cooked this for me,” he said quietly.
She nodded, shy.
“Yes. To tank yu proper.”
His thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“You did.”
Simple.
But coming from him, it felt like everything.
She squeezed his hand, smiling wide.
“Mi glad yu like.”
He pulled her gently from her chair until she stood beside him, then guided her onto his lap.
She settled against his chest, warm and content.
His arms wrapped around her.
“Thank you,” he murmured against her temple.
Leitana’s heart felt full.
She leaned into him.
And for a little while,
the world was just them.
Home-cooked food.
And the devil holding his lamb
like she was the only thing that mattered.
But just as they began to relax, a voice cut in.
“What’s going on here?”
Avery’s calm, stoic voice filled the room.
Leitana turned her head toward her sister, who stood a few feet away from where Ravial sat. Leitana’s face lit up brightly, and she didn’t notice the icy look that settled over her husband’s face.
To most people, that cold expression was all Ravial ever wore. But moments ago, with Leitana in his arms, there had been warmth wafting off him, subtle, quiet, revolving around her the way the earth revolved around the sun.
Now, as Leitana slipped off his lap, his hand fell back to his thigh. He didn’t turn to look at them.
“Come, come. Mi make food for yu too,” Leitana said cheerfully as she rushed to Avery. She wrapped her hand around her sister’s frail wrist and tugged her toward the dining table.
She reached to pull out a chair close to where she’d been sitting, but Avery stopped short.
Instead, she turned to the chair beside Ravial. Leitana’s phone lay there, clearly marking where she’d been seated.
Avery pointed at it.
“I want to sit there.”
Leitana’s smile faltered for just a second.
Ravial glanced at his wife.
Leitana smiled immediately and nodded.
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
She hurried past her sister and pulled out the chair. Avery walked over and sat gracefully.
Leitana’s smile widened as she turned to dish out a plate.
“Your phone.”
Avery’s words stopped her.
Leitana turned back to see her sister holding out her phone with a small smile. Leitana took it quickly, murmured thanks, and rushed back to the table to serve food.
Avery turned to Ravial, who was already looking at her. She smiled.
His face remained cold as stone.
He looked away, his gaze returning to Leitana as she happily piled food onto a plate.
Avery then glanced over the spread of dishes across the table. She leaned forward slightly, as if sniffing them.
Leitana turned to her, cheeks pink.
“So… what is all this?” Avery asked, eyeing the food as though it were foreign. “I haven’t seen such… dishes before.”
Leitana approached with the plate piled high—tuluk, laplap, simboro—steam curling gently above it. She set it in front of Avery with a proud, hopeful smile.
“Dis all from home,” she said softly, eyes bright. “Laplap—grated cassava wit’ coconut milk, slow cook. Tuluk—pork an’ cabbage, little ginger. Simboro sweet, banana an’ coconut. Mi make it special.”
Avery scooped a small bite of tuluk and brought it to her lips.
Leitana watched, breath held.
Avery tasted.
Her face twisted almost instantly. She turned her head, discreetly but unmistakably, and spat the bite into her napkin.
Leitana’s smile collapsed.
“Yu… yu no like?” she asked softly.
The room stilled. Rosa, Clara, and Maya froze where they stood, eyes darkening, but none spoke.
Avery dabbed her mouth, her expression carefully composed.
“It’s… different,” she said. “The flavors are very strong. Not what I’m used to.”
Leitana’s hands fell to her sides.
“But mi make it for yu too,” she whispered. “From mi home.”
“I appreciate the effort,” Avery replied, her smile thin. “Truly. It’s just not for me.”
The rejection landed hard.
Ravial turned his head slowly toward Avery. He set his spoon down with deliberate care.
The room cooled.
“You will eat it,” he said evenly.
Avery stiffened.
“I…”
“You insulted her effort,” he continued. “Fix it.”
Leitana moved quickly, shaking her head.
“No, Ravial. It okay,” she said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “Mi no mind. Yu no have to.”
Avery hesitated, then picked up her spoon again.
“I’ll try a little more.”
Ravial said nothing.
But the air remained heavy as Leitana gently rubbed her sister’s hand, defending her, even as the sting lingered in her own chest.