"What? Don't you know you're no longer our family when you get married off? You should think about your family now that you're married. You shouldn't be so greedy".
"I'm so sorry Mother," l lost all my appetite for a smile. Loads of water are already gathering in my eyes waiting for a blink for them to drop.
"Hurry up and get rid of it, we don't want anyone to think our exhibition is lousy, " she turned to take her leave.
"That's so harsh mother," Elena also turned, forming her lips to make a mockery of me.
"Instead of looking at the painting, can't you see how I feel? Sure, I may not be up to your standard, but I worked so hard on it with all my heart," I spurted out as tears rolled down my cheeks.
"Hey listen, you were working on that painting while you should've been working harder. That's why I was upset."
"I'm sorry. I misunderstood you. It's for a good cause, so I'm doing my best and I won't disappoint you," I retorted, trying to find her favor.
"Let me know if you need anything," she started to take her leave.
I rub my chest. Trying to ease the pain that was encased there.
It does no good. It still fucking hurts when I try to please my parents with what am good at.
Growing up, you could say that I was emotionally neglected. I was the child that none of my parents cared that much about. Father and mother's favorite was my sister, Elena. Mother will go to any lengths to get whatever my sister is asking for. I was no one's favorite. I was just Emma and Emma only.
I always felt unwanted. Unwelcomed. Not only with my parents but also with my husband's family except they need my help. No matter what I tried I did, even with good grades when we were in school, house cleaning, and gifts, they would never accept one. I always felt like a stranger looking in. Never part of the big happy family.
As I stand at the table, engrossed in my painting, the door creaks open, and I can hear the sound of shoes clacking against the marble tiles. I turn around as my heart is beating with every step being taken, sounding closer to me and it's Amory.
With a gentle smile, his eyes lit up as they fell into my work.
"Wow," he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "That's really impressive! You have such talent," his words washed over me, filling me with warmth and encouragement and his words began to chase away the sadness my mother had caused me. It was a simple moment, but at least someone made me feel appreciated.
His comments let me know as the adage says that 'you never truly appreciate what you have until it's gone," that is how I felt after his words.
The door swung open once more, and my sister and my husband entered the room together, their voices mingling in casual conversation.
"Amory, why didn't you call me to let me know you came?"
"I was studying your sister's painting," he replied to her with his deep voice, cutting the silent space after my sister's question.
"Hello sir," my husband was quick to greet Amory because he was the CEO of the company he was working for as the manager.
Putting a smile on her face, Elena leaves my husband's side to mine. Standing beside me, putting her hand in between my left arm.
"Isn't she amazing? I was really impressed," she said, leaving me in shock while looking into my eyes with her deceitful eyes. Wasn't she the one that made a mockery of me after my mother's comment?
"That's enough, Elena," my husband mumbled.
"Shouldn't you be boasting if your wife is so talented? Why are you stopping me when appreciating the work of your wife? Do you even love my sister?
A palpable tension seemed to linger in the air after my sister's inquiry felt like a pointed jab at my husband. I couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort, with the kind of question my sister is asking my husband.
"What?" my husband exclaimed.
"Why are you so surprised? I heard Emma confessed to you first. She won't even know how you feel if you don't express it. Don't you agree, Amory?" my husband takes a deep breath to answer without waiting for Amory to speak.
"Come on," my heart is racing, but I can't wait and let my sister be trolling my husband because it's really weird.
"He doesn't have to express it for me to know," I let out words trying to be a supportive wife.
"Really? How?" she asks in annoyance and stares at me but my eyes shift to her and I give them a small smile feeling with courage to speak.
"Because of the time we've spent together," with pride and joy, I look into my husband's eyes while proceeding. "You don't have to say it to know it's love. You can feel it from the way one acts and from words like "Sorry" or "thank you"."
Amory clears his throat looking down at his feet.
"Really? I don't agree," my sister is the type that always wants to make a mockery of my actions no matter how good it is.
"I'm sorry. Thank you. That's what people say to get away. Love is something you should have conviction about. You should be able to tell who that person loves just by the look in their eyes. Don't you think so, Amory?"
My heart was caught as she threw the question to him. My heart racing, waiting in anticipation of his answer.
"I'm not sure. I think it depends on the person. I think Emma's way of expressing love is fine," my heart began to feel rested after his reply.
"Really? How so?"
He slides his hand into his pocket, letting his face up at my painting.
"To Emma, Mr Zayn must look this handsome. I didn't know if a man could receive so much love from a woman," he turned his face towards my husband. "It's a huge compliment. Enough to make a man jealous."
My sister gave me a side look, but I was comfortable with what she got after her weird question. But she's full of deceit and always wants people to support her views.
"Now that I think about it, you're right. I didn't know my brother-in-law was so handsome," she left my side to his, grabbing his hand, and pressing it against hers.
"What do you think? Don't we look better together?"
Amory frowns his face over them with my husband trying to fight back against her hand.
"Why? Are you uncomfortable? Am I not good enough for you?" My husband has no words to say but lets out a smile and fights no more, letting down his fighting.
No one needed to tell me the truth with the looking on his face. He is madly in love with her even being my husband with the loving look he has never given me that he's giving her.
