Page 210 of Double Daddies
“You guys didn’t have to do all this. I could’ve tried to make something,” I utter, my voice tinged with gratitude.
Elijah shakes his head, his expression gentle. “We wanted to do this for you,merlotta. You’ve been through enough, our little songbird.”
Ezra plates the food with care, his movements deliberate yet graceful. “It’s the least we could do.”
“It looks and smells amazing,” I say, my stomach growling audibly. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the twins just laugh, their laughter light and genuine.
Ezra places the dishes on the table, the clink of ceramic against wood grounding the moment. Elijah pulls out a chair for me before taking a seat himself, and Ezra follows suit, settling into the chair opposite me. The warm glow from the kitchen light casts a cozy ambiance over us, the soft hum of the evening creating a quiet intimacy.
The first bite is perfection—rich, savory, comforting. The flavors blend beautifully, and I let out a small sigh of appreciation. Elijah smirks as he watches me. "That good, huh?"
I nod, unable to resist another bite. "You guys outdid yourselves."
Ezra twirls his fork through his pasta, his expression pleased. "Glad you like it. Cooking's a nice change from the chaos we usually deal with."
Elijah chuckles, taking a sip of his wine. "Yeah, but if you ever tell anyone we’re capable of domestic life, we’ll deny it."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Your secret’s safe with me."
The meal continues with easy conversation and quiet moments of appreciation, the warmth of their presence filling the space in a way that soothes something deep inside me.
Elijah leans back in his chair, watching me with a satisfied smirk. “You’re making it too easy to impress you,merlotta.”
I roll my eyes, but the blush creeping up my cheeks betrays me. “Don’t get too cocky. I’m just hungry.”
Ezra chuckles softly, his voice low and soothing. “You can admit it—we’re good at this.”
The conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and teasing. Elijah recounts a story about a disastrous attempt at cooking in their younger days, complete with exaggerated gestures that make Ezra groan and shake his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Ezra mutters, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Not a chance,” Elijah replies, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To progress. We’ve come a long way from burnt toast and undercooked eggs.”
I laugh, the sound light and genuine, and raise my own glass. “To progress,” I echo, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the food or the wine.
As the meal winds down, Elijah clears the plates while Ezra pours another round of wine. The atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter giving way to a quieter, more intimate energy. Elijah returns with a small plate of dessert—something chocolatey and decadent—that he sets in the center of the table.
“We figured you could use a little extra sweetness tonight,” he says, his tone softer now.
I smile, touched by the gesture, but a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. My ex-boyfriend's cruel words echo in my mind, reminding me of the times he would squeeze my hips and call me fat, as if that was all I was. “You two really didn’t have to go all out like this,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light, but my heart sinks at the thought of indulging.
Ezra meets my gaze, his expression earnest. “We wanted to. You deserve it.” He gestures toward the dessert, but I hesitate, glancing down at the rich chocolate cake.
Elijah leans forward, a playful grin on his face. “Come on, Wren. It’s just dessert! You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”
I hesitate, glancing at the rich chocolate cake. I want to indulge, but the thought of overindulging makes me anxious. “It looks amazing, but… I shouldn’t eat more,” I say, my voice wavering. “I mean, I’ve been trying to be careful about my weight.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I immediately regret it.
“What? You don’t like chocolate?” Elijah teases, trying to coax me into enjoying the moment.
“No, it’s not that,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks flush. “I just… I don’t want to eat too much.” The thought of their potential judgment looms in my mind, even though I know they wouldn’t be cruel.
Ezra’s brow furrows slightly in confusion. “Why not? You’re not going to ruin anything by enjoying a little dessert. We want you to have fun.”
Elijah’s playful demeanor shifts as he leans closer, his expression serious. “Wren, you’re perfect just the way you are. Seriously, don’t let anything hold you back from enjoying this.”
I bite my lip, feeling the weight of my insecurities pressing down on me. “I just… I don’t want to overdo it. I’ve been told I’m… well, too much,” I stammer, my heart racing.
The moment hangs in the air, and I can see the shift in their expressions. Ezra’s eyes darken with concern, and Elijah’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean, ‘too much’?” Elijah asks, his voice low and intense.
I look down, ashamed. “It’s just… I don’t want to be that person who eats everything and then regrets it. I’ve had enough people tell me what I should look like.”
