Angel’s chubby face was contorted as she tried to hold the heavy basket of fruits. The tension in the room was dialed down and Monique found herself smiling at her daughter. She jogged over to relieve the heavy burden. “I’m here.”
Monique lifted the basket and was surprised to find how heavy it was. Angel was really outdoing herself.
She was silently regretting her decision to return home. She should not have given in to her uncle’s request.
The only reason she agreed to come home was to take a breather from Henry Moore—her heart had been too occupied with that man.
She carried the fruit basket in one hand and linked fingers with Angel. After depositing the item, she said to her uncle, “I’ll be in my room cleaning.”
Zephyrus nodded wisely. “Go on. I’ll talk to you later.”
Monique led her daughter upstairs. Her eyelashes quivered as she tried to keep her tears at bay.
She was hurt but she had to put up a front.
Her aunt and cousin were not wrong in their assumptions. Henry Moore