Zoya’s P.O.V
Turning back to face the cabin, the first thing I saw was Ezra dishing out the porridge into bowls and adding a few condiments to it.
That heart-fluttering feeling returned with fervor this time as I continued to watch him work in silence, all the while dreading my own feelings.
This wasn’t the first time Ezra had been there for me, to get me through some of my toughest challenges. He’d been beside me ever since I stepped into the Sapphire Mountains.
First the rescue mission at the edge of the cliff. Then he’d taken my hand when my cousin and Ravi had tried to insult me. He had also been there when I had found out that my engagement ring had been fake.
His words have gotten me through so much pain and heartache, and yet, my heart felt heavy with the knowledge of his recent loss, the absence of a mate who held a significant place in his life.
I couldn't help but sympathize with the pain he must be enduring, a pain that ran deeper than I could fathom. And yet, I couldn’t help but think that these were the conditions that brought us closer to each other.
I felt like a horrible person for feeling them, knowing that these thoughts were a result of my own affection for Ezra, but fate had already played its hand and now, we were face to face…so near, yet so far.
But the fear of rejection and the weight of his own grief held me back, trapping my emotions within the confines of my own thoughts.
I was afraid that he didn't actually share the same sentiments as me… What if this was just how he normally is? What if being kind was just his nature and he was this way with everyone?
Shaking my head, I entered the cabin once more and sat next to him on the counter where he had placed the food.
A small smile danced on my lips as I met his gaze. "This looks really good."
He looked at me grinning. “Well, I hope it tastes as good as well."
He picked up a spoonful of porridge and blew on it before holding it to my lips. “Here, try some.”
Smiling, I ate the serving and sighed in delight as the taste of the warm and comforting rice dish brought back a wave of nostalgia.
“Good?” Ezra asked hopefully.
I nodded enthusiastically. “This brings back memories of my childhood.” The only good ones I had, if I was being honest. “In India, we have this dish called kichudi, which is a similar porridge dish, but with lentils and spices. Whenever I was sick as a child, my mom would always make it and feed it to me.”
“That sounds nice.”
I cast a sideways glance at Ezra at the tone of his voice. His features bore traces of sadness, etched lines of sorrow that spoke volumes. Whatever he was thinking…I bet it was related to his own childhood memories.
Did I do something unconsciously that I wasn’t supposed to? Was it something I said?
"This is delicious, Ezra," I praised him instead, trying to change the topic. "You have a talent for cooking."
A subtle blush colored his cheeks, accompanied by a warm smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you, Zoya. I'm glad you enjoy it. Cooking has always held a special place in my heart."
Intrigued, I leaned forward, eager to hear the story behind his culinary skills. "Really? Tell me more about it."
His gaze softened, carrying a hint of nostalgia. "My mother used to make me porridge whenever I had an upset stomach or on rainy days when the weather was cool," he explained, sighing contentedly. "It was her way of soothing my soul and filling our home with warmth. But since she passed away, I find solace in preparing porridge on rainy days, a way to honor her memory and keep her spirit alive."
A mixture of sadness and admiration welled up within me as I listened to his heartfelt words.
It was a testament to his love for his mother and a touching tribute to the bond they shared. I think I had heard from Cam that Ezra’s mother passed. But didn’t that mean that Silas’s mother also passed? They were brothers after all.
"I'm sure your mother would be proud of the beautiful soul you've become, Ezra," I said softly, my voice laced with sincerity.
His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Zoya. Your words mean a lot to me."
"And... I'm sorry about your mother," I whispered, my voice laced with genuine sympathy.
A bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't be sorry, Zoya," he replied, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and acceptance. "Her death was her freedom, a release from the pain she endured."
“What do you mean?” I frowned. “Was she unwell?”
Ezra shook his head. “Not physically, but mentally? She was as broken as broken could get.” He sighed, and I waited impatiently for an explanation. But luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. “My mother was my father’s girlfriend before he found his mate. She was already pregnant with me when he found Silas’s mother…and the next instant, she was cast aside as the other woman.”
Eyes widening in sorrow, I let Ezra continue as I absorbed this new information.
“She was blamed to be the home wrecker, the disgraceful woman who gave birth to the Alpha’s illegitimate child.” He continued. “And Silas’s mother was always the victim, the unfortunate one who was kind enough to let her husband’s mistress stay in the pack and also raise his illegitimate child. But no one saw my mother’s pain, the betrayal she felt even though none of it was her fault.”
“So…when I found out she had hung herself, found her body being taken away from the house we shared…it was actually a relief.” A single tear slid down his cheek, which he wiped away hastily. “She was no longer going to be hated, scorned. And I know that wherever she is now…she’s in peace. She deserves it.”
“Ezra…I’m so sorry.” I placed a hand over his on top of the counter. "We may carry the weight of our pasts, Ezra, but we don't have to bear it alone," I whispered, my voice filled with determination. "You have me."
He reached out his other hand across the counter, and without hesitation, I closed the distance, intertwining our fingers. It was a silent gesture, a tangible reminder that he was not alone in his pain, that I was here to offer my support.
In that simple yet profound gesture, our connection deepened, forging a bond that transcended words.
And my foolish heart skipped another beat, giving me hope that maybe…just maybe…I could one day win his heart like he had won over mine.