As he sought ways to lighten my burden, he decided to support Lila in her dreams, believing that helping her would bring some positive energy back into our lives. It was a simple act, but it felt profound in that moment.
When my parents began to heal, Braxton joked that Lila was the light that brought us all together. He encouraged me to treat her like family, and I welcomed her into my life with open arms, sharing everything I could. But I had unknowingly let a wolf into my heart, one who would ultimately sharpen the knife that would stab me from behind.
The thought of that betrayal gnawed at my stomach, and I lost my appetite, setting down my fork after just a few bites.
“Is the food not to your liking?” Braxton asked, concern etched across his face.
I glanced around the table, my gaze falling on the spicy dishes that overwhelmed the senses. My stomach churned at the sight of the fiery peppers, and I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I replied, though I could barely muster the strength to sound convincing.
“Sorry, I forgot you can’t handle spicy food,” he said, his voice laced with regret.