Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Raising her eyes, Mikayla couldn’t see who had been staring at her. She shrugged it off, but her surprise grew when Carlos placed a perfectly peeled shrimp on her plate.
‘How does he know everything about me? Mikayla wondered, feeling a bit exposed around Carlos.
“Carlos, you’re so nice to Mikayla, Natasha exclaimed, casting an envious glance toward Mikayla.
“Of course he does! Mikayla will be his wife. Who else should he treat well!” Selena remarked, her eyes twinkling with affection for her seemingly clueless daughter.
“That’s right, a husband should always treat his wife well,” Natasha agreed, smiling sweetly.
The meal went great, and everyone enjoyed themselves. After dinner, Carlos played chess with Garrett, while Natasha took Mikayla to her art studio
“Mikayla, what does it feel like to be in love!” Natasha asked as Mikayla pushed her wheelchair toward the studio.
After a moment of thought, Mikayla replied softly, “When he’s by your side, it feels like the whole world is beautiful”
“Is that how you feel with Carlos?” Natasha’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Yes,” Mikayla admitted. Whenever Carlos was around, she would feel a deep sense of peace.
“I wonder if I ever get to experience love” Natasha said softly, her eyes lowering.
“You will,” Mikayla assured her. “Every girl has a prince charming waiting for her.”
“Really?” Natasha asked
Upon seeing the hope in Natasha’s eyes, Mikayla nodded. “Yes” NôvelDrama.Org owns this.
Despite her disability and congenital heart disease, Natasha maintained such a bright spirit. Mikayla could only imagine the immense care and love her parents had given her
“Here we are, Mikayla, Natasha said.
Mikayla stopped and opened the door to the art studio, It was a beautiful room, kept very tidy.
“Besides eating and sleeping. I spend almost all my time here, Natasha said, maneuvering her wheelchair with ease as she showed Mikayla around the studio.
Given Garrett and Selena’s protectiveness, it was clear they didn’t let Natasha venture out much. The vivid paintings around the room spoke of a world carefully crafted through her brushstrokes, each piece a testament to her thoughts and imagination.
“You’re incredibly talented, Mikayla praised sincerely.
“What good is talent when I’m still stuck in this chair?” Natasha’s tone was bitter.
Mikayla didn’t know how to respond to Natasha’s words. Maybe it was better to just let her be sad for a while.
“Mikayla, can you push me over there?” Natasha pointed to a small, specially arranged room.
The room was meticulously decorated, but what caught Mikayla’s eye were the numerous portraits, all of one person.
Mikayla thought, “This can’t be..”
“Mikayla, look, this room is filled with portraits of Carlos, Natasha declared proudly.
The room was packed with thousands upon thousands of drawings. Mikayla paused before a painting of a young Carlos, around II or 12 years old. Even as a child, he was strikingly handsome, his features noble and sharp.
“Carlos has always been extraordinarily good–looking. So many girls adored him,” Natasha said, her eyes shining with admiration. “Look at this one, it’s the first time I drew Carlos. And this one, it’s from my birthday. I purposely smeared cake on his face. He was so angry, but he didn’t yell at me.”
Mikayla was at a loss for words,
Natasha went on, recounting the stories behind each lifelike portrait. As she spoke about her inspiration, Mikayla noticed that once Natasha started talking about Carlos, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“This room is filled with memories of me and Carlos. But ever since he started his training at the military base, he rarely comes home… Sometimes, 1 didn’t see him for a whole year. And with my condition, Mom won’t let me visit him” Natasha said, frustration coloring her voice as she pounded her unfeeling legs
As Mikayla wandered, her eyes fell upon an unfinished painting on an easel. In the painting, Natasha sat on an Epean style couch, dressed in a pristine wedding gown, a blissful smile playing on her lips.
From the way Natasha talked about Carlos‘ childhood, Mikayla began to sense something amiss. “But they’re siblings, aren’t they?‘ she thought.