The Day Our Promise Breaks

He hadn't even spared her a sideways glance, let alone spoken a word.

At first, she'd been afraid of Charles-so much so that whenever she sat next to him, she tried to shrink herself into the smallest possible space. But ever since the night he carried her out of the basement, she couldn't help but notice everything about him: the way he spoke, the way he moved. She found herself stealing glances, no matter how hard she tried not to.

Charles was picky about food, so she'd quietly memorized every single thing he liked and disliked. In the five years they'd lived together, every time she knew he was coming home, she'd whip up something new, hoping it would please him.

Everyone always said that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. She'd held onto that hope that if she could just cook his favorite meals, maybe she, Charles, and little Charlie could finally have a real, happy family.

But time and again, her efforts fell flat. Charles would either be tied up at some last-minute business dinner and not come home at all, or he'd show up after eating elsewhere. Almost every time, she wouldn't even get the chance to sit down with him before he'd gesture for her to go upstairs. No small talk, no warmth. Just business.

He came home for one reason only, and it had nothing to do with her heart or her cooking.

Did he ever care what she liked? Did he ever even wonder?

Lost in her thoughts, Evelyn hardly realized it when Charles took her hand and led her toward the dining table. She snapped back to herself and pulled her hand free.

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you feeling okay? Or is it the food? Just tell me what you want, I'll make it for you," Charles said, his eyes scanning her face with what almost looked like

concern.

looking at you makes me lose my appetite. Why would I

landed like a

two hours making this..." he tried, his

tried this time. He wanted her to see

shot back,

After the way he'd ignored her feelings all these years, what right did he have

you don't want what I made, I'll just order from Debbie's Garden.

rang. The icy look on her face shifted ever so

Aunt Josephine? Is she any

where are

to be with her, scared that his mother's illness might drive

was on the

Charles's voice

In

her. He was on the phone, ordering takeout from Debbie's Garden to be delivered