6.4

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note: 8K reads and 1K votes! Thank you lovelies for your support. The comments on the previous chapter were super motivating as well so don't hesitate to comment. I appreciate all the feedback. I'm going to try and keep to a twice a week update schedule now. Which of the following work well for you? 

1. Tuesday and Friday, or

2. Wednesday and Saturday, or

3. Thursday and Sunday? 

With that said, have a good weekend and enjoy the chapter! 


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London didn't remember the last time she woke up smiling on a Monday morning.

Her co-worker, and current sous chef at Tollerz, was due to leave at the end of this week for a new restaurant where he'd be the head chef. This time next week she'd be standing in his shoes. The feeling was surreal. Exciting yet scary. She couldn't wait to visit her mother today, get her favourite flowers and update her on life's happenings.

Perhaps it was weird talking to a dead person on an almost weekly basis but it helped London power through, especially these days, when she finally realised that the days do get brighter eventually, but only if you yourself decide that you've had enough of it.

London hadn't learnt to move past her mother's death, not until Gwen and her reconciled their differences over her death, mourning together, moving forward together, like they should have done all those years ago. It was silly now that London thought about it, how life seemed to be stuck in a loop. But she'd come to realise it was that way because she let it be that way. She let the sadness consume her, she let it dictate her life. Her mother wouldn't have wanted to see her like that — she knew and yet it truly hadn't registered until recently.

Her life would only change, would only move forward, if she not only wanted it to but also worked for it. That power of change vested in her and her alone.

She lay in bed, listening to the running water as Andrew took a shower. She'd been staying over a couple of nights. He stayed over at her place some nights too. They both had clothes and a few other belongings at each other's place, and London had never felt more comfortable in a relationship. She always imagined that sharing a bed with a man would be weird and though she had done it before, she had never done it without the expectation of sex.

With Andrew it was different. Most weekdays he worked himself to the bone and on the days he worked very late he'd come to her flat since it was closer. He'd kiss her, tell her about his day and listen to her as she told him about hers. He'd cuddle her and then they'd fall into bed, comfortably falling asleep in each other's arms. The weekends, Sunday to be specific, were when they got energetic and when they had time for themselves to go out for dinner, or to go rounds on end of sex at night.

She smiled to herself, heat rising to her neck when she thought of what happened in the kitchen yesterday. Let's just say that dinner was forgotten and they ended up having dinner in the bedroom. One of the many reasons London was smiling this Monday morning. And starving.

A ringtone cut through her thoughts and she lifted herself up from bed, her hand reaching for her phone. But it wasn't hers that was ringing. Andrew's phone vibrated, the ringtone still going off as Talia's name flashed across the screen.

A bitter feeling sunk into her stomach and she didn't feel so good anymore. Talia rarely called Andrew, and the last time London had talked to Talia, Talia confessed why she was being the way she was acting and though London felt that Talia could do much better than strip Andrew from his daughter, she did understand where Talia was coming from. She understood, but she didn't approve. There were better ways to go about things.

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