The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Bitter Chocolate and Memories

My first taste of chocolate was bitter. That was the very first memory I had of the beautiful, decadent dessert.

I was five then, staying in the hospital after the accident that took away my ma and my memory. During one of my recovery sessions-learning how to walk again-I saw an advertisement on television for this new dessert shop that was about to open up.

An assortment of cakes swept past my eyes in those thirty second ads. One stood out among the rest, and that was the beautiful chocolate cake, decorated with an angel on top.

Something as beautiful as this cake must taste so delicious and sweet. From that moment on, I had a sudden craving for that beautiful decadent dessert.

I’d always asked my sister, Amelia and Pa to buy me one because my birthday was coming close, but they always refused, saying it was too expensive. When I heard one of the girls who shared my room was going to have her birthday party here, which included a chocolate cake from that store, I thought I would be lucky enough to get invited and my fantasy of eating that beautiful delicious cake would come true.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t asked to go.

I’d asked why since we’d shared the same room and were quite close. She turned back to me, her pink peachy lips twisting sarcastically, “Because you’re plain. Your brown hair is so boring and ugly. Like the color of mud. And you have freckles on your face, like black sesame seeds. You’re not beautiful. You’ll embarrass me. Only beautiful people are invited to my birthday party.”

I cried that night. I never thought about how I looked before. My brown hair wasn’t so plain until she mentioned that it was so boring to look at, like the color of mud. And my face… was it so unappealing that I would disgrace her if I were invited?

On the day of the farewell party, I slipped into her party room to marvel at the cake, at least to satisfy my fantasy of seeing that chocolate deliciousness in front of my eyes.

My heart swelled in happiness at the beautiful sight before me. Those swirls and chocolate flakes with a white angel atop three levels resting majestically on the stand, just like the television advertisement.

That cake was gorgeous, beyond anything I could imagine in my whole young life. And without thinking of what I was doing, I’d grabbed a small slice just to satisfy my craving…and possibly as an act of revenge against that girl for calling me sesame seed face.

My wee heart was thumping like mad from the adrenaline of what I’d done. I quickly ran back to my room and hid under the blankets, afraid someone would catch me if they found out I’d stolen some.

After listening for a few minutes and hearing no footsteps coming in to reprimand me, I turned to look at my beautiful piece of chocolate cake in my hands. My little heart wept upon seeing the beautiful dessert all crushed in my hands.

Dark-brown stains colored my palms, like mud, like the color of my hair. I licked my fingers then, wanting to at least savor the taste of that cake. Big fat tears dropped from my eyes, my shoulders trembling in disappointment.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

My beautiful chocolate cake. Why did it taste so bitter? Why was it not sweet as I’d imagined?

Throughout all of my nineteen years of life, since the time I was five until now, I’d discovered beautiful things were only an apparition, artifacts that could only be admired from afar.

And that was what Giovanni was. He was a man who was so beautiful, so captivating to look at, but if I got a taste of him, I was afraid he’d be bitter, like my first taste of chocolate cake.

I didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want my beautiful fantasy of him to shatter, like that fantasy of my chocolate cake. Maybe that was why I’d run away from him. Inside, I’d wanted him, too, but I knew if I let myself sink into his alluring web, I could never regain my sanity.

Fantasy and reality merged, and soon my mind drifted off to sleep, with one thought remaining.

I don’t want to shatter my beautiful illusion of Giovanni. Let him be my captivating Adonis forever.