Her Trust And Troubles.

“Hey Love, you want something to eat?” It was quarter past two, an hour or two after Elijah’s whole confession incident, when he walked into the living room, carrying two steaming hot bowls of porridge. “It’s porridge,” He said, barely giving Amara enough time to react before he sat beside her and placed a spoon in her hand. “Have a bite, you’ll like it.” That, she was sure she would, after all, Elijah was a wonderful cook. The man, her man in this case, had cooking skills comparable to that of five star chefs. But even when she knew this, Amara hesitated to hold the spoon right, looking down at the deliciously looking porridge with a frown on her face. Elijah noticed this and equally frowned, but his was more coated with worry for his fiancée. “Is something wrong? Does it taste bad?” He questioned. Amara shook her head. “No, I’m sure it’d taste wonderful. It’s just…” She paused, not sure how to continue on with the story. However, one look in Elijah’s direction, seeing how worried for