On a beautiful afternoon, Trisha seated at the porch with Gwen, soaking in the warmth of the sun. They sipped on fragrant chamomile tea, its soothing aroma mingling with the gentle breeze.
Alongside the tea, they enjoyed a platter of freshly baked scones, still warm from the oven, with a dollop of creamy clotted cream and homemade strawberry jam. The sweet and savory flavors swirled on their taste buds.
Gwen's cup clinked against the saucer as she set it down. "I haven't had a chance to ask how you're doing."
Trisha took a moment, savoring the warmth of the tea in her hands before responding. "I've been holding up," she replied with a small smile. "It's been a whirlwind, but I'm managing."
"How have you been coping with everything?"
"I've been trying to take it one day at a time. Some days are harder than others, but I'm doing my best to stay focused and positive."
"Are you married, dear?" The old lady asked gently, her expression curious yet understanding, as if prepared for any answer.
Trisha's smile faltered, replaced by a somber expression. "No, I'm not," she replied softly, her gaze drifting off into the distance. The question seemed to weigh heavily on her, stirring up a mix of emotions she struggled to contain.
"I see," Gwen murmured sympathetically, her eyes softened as she observed Trisha's gloomy expression. "Is everything alright? You seem a bit down."
Are the villagers naturally attentive or do they tend to be overly nosy? Should she answer this kind of question? Trisha mused in her thought.
She squirmed uneasily, feeling the weight of the moment she had been dreading. Crossing one arm over her waist, she clasped the opposite elbow tightly, her dangling foot nervously twitching. "The past few days have been a little crazy."
The old lady took a sip, let out a satisfied smack of her lips, and then placed the cup and saucer gently on her lap. "What do you mean?"
Trisha paused, her mind racing as she debated how much to reveal. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her thoughts before responding. "Well, it's about my relationship," she began hesitantly. "It's... it's over recently. I found out he was cheating on me with his assistant."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," the old lady responded gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Trisha's arm. "That must have been incredibly difficult and painful for you."
"Yeah, it was tough. But I'm trying to move forward and focus on myself now." The word came out in an agonized whisper.
Gwen nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting empathy. "That's the best thing you can do. Taking care of yourself is important, especially after such a challenging experience."
Trisha's eyes dropping momentarily before she continued, "To make matters worse, he's the one who intervened to have me transferred to this island."
The old lady widened her eyes in shock, and she instinctively placed a trembling hand over her heart. "Oh my!" she gasped. "Sending a woman to this secluded island? It's a crazy idea. What could possibly be his true motive?"
Trisha's lips formed a bitter curve as she replied, "I wish I knew. But it seems like betrayal was just the beginning of his intentions. It's like a banishment, so he can have free rein to do whatever he wants."
"That sounds quite painful."
"It certainly is. Things were never the same between us after that," Trisha responded quietly. Pain had been a frequent companion in her life, but she preferred not to reveal too much to someone she didn't know well.
A thousand needles seemed to prick at her eyes. What was wrong with her? She found herself tearing up at kind words, yet harbored nothing but contempt for her ex-boyfriend. Would she ever find it in herself to forgive him and move on?
A timeless wound that would never heal, the pain of his betrayal as fresh as the moment it happened. She gazed up at the sky, where the moon struggled to break through the clouds. How could a man entirely cut off his long-term relationship with her simply because she didn't fit his image of the ideal woman? It was ridiculous!
"But you enjoy your work?" Gwen's voice broke the silence.
"Very much!"
The old lady turned to her, her eyes filled with concern as she leaned forward attentively. "And what about your family? How are they?"
"I have my mom and two siblings back home." Her gaze was distant as she thought of her family. Almost as if nothing had happened. "Better than expected."
Despite the upheaval in her life, her schedule barely interrupted, and she hadn't spent time with friends in months. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers over the nubby fabric of her housecoat as a horse whinnied in the darkness.
"And your father? How is he?"
A wave of pain crashed against her heart, leaving her struggling to find the words. Why was it still so hard to speak of it?
Meeting the lady's gaze, she took a deep breath. "My father passed away," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. "He was killed in a car accident a year ago."
Gwen's face drained of color, her face appearing even paler than the gray curls framing her face. "Oh, my dear. You poor child! I'm so sorry." Her voice thick with emotion, she scooted closer and wrapped Trisha in a warm embrace.
Trisha shifted in her seat and turned her head slightly to conceal the sudden rush of tears that welled up in her eyes. Finally, there was someone who cared for her.
The old lady gently pulled away, her compassionate gaze urging Trisha to speak, but the words remained trapped in her throat as numbness enveloped her once more. If only she could cry and grieve like other young women who had lost their fathers.
Gwen studied her face intently. "Is there more?"
Trisha gazed into the nearly empty cup, grappling with how to explain. "Let's just say my family wasn't a happy one."
The elder woman remained silent, but a knowing expression settled over her face.