The Biker's Fashion Designer

RE

at both the sight of the meals and the sweet smell that filled the whole kitchen. We were making buttermilk fried chicken, garlic mashed potatoes with crea

y room, a huge and glowing Christmas tree in the living room, some pairs of stockings hung by the fireplace, pine scented candles on the dining table, some Christmas c

from the burner. Dinner was ready and I just couldn't wai

lied my texts." I was about to steal a piece o

Serena. Lionel is an adult now." S

with a sigh. And ever since he turned eighteen, he has been

literally dragged me out of the kitchen. As a huge foodie, my mom knew

an we have dinner now?" My stomach was rumbling like

to..." She was cut off her ringin

it w

through, with a smile

t loudly when the smile on my m

?" She was up from the s

rom the sofa as well, trying so hard

tal? W

I took the phone from her hands, p

onded, the sound of a woma

unched me to the gut... I forgot to breathe for a second. My eyes got we

alling to the ground. I had to hold

Scripps Memorial H

her," I said firmly. "We're com

utes, assuring both myself and my mom that Lionel would be fine. I could not a

e floor, shaking and crying like the world had come to an end. The tears I had perfectly held back flowed

r how I planned to

other's lifeless face, I swore silently in my heart,