Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151

The kitchen smelled like vana and sugar. Flour dusted the counter in white clouds, and the mixer hummed as it spun cookie dough into the right sonsistency. Lucia stood at the counter with Ria on one side and Monica on the other, all three of them wearing aprons and laughing as they measured ingredients.

“More chocolate chips.” Monica reached for the bag. “You can never have too many chocolate chips.”

Ria grinned and grabbed a handful, popping a few into her mouth before adding the rest to the bowl. “These are the best cookies ever and we haven’t even baked them yet.”

Lucia watched her daughters work together, their heads bent close as they debated whether to add nuts or keep the recipe simple. This was what she’d dreamed of during those dark months. Her children happy and safe in the kitchen with her. doing normal family things.

“Mom, can you hand me the vanilla?” Ria’s question came easy, natural. Like they’d been doing this together forever instead of just a few days.

Lucia passed the bottle over, her heart full. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, making the whole kitchen glow gold. Everything felt perfect. Peaceful.

That’s when Lena walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, her backpack still on her shoulder from where she’d just gotten home from her friend’s house. Her eyes took in the scene. Lucia with her arms around Monica, helping her crack an egg. Ria measuring out brown sugar with her tongue stuck out in concentration. The three of them covered in flour and smiling.

Something crossed Lena’s face. Something sharp and painful that made Lucia’s stomach clench. It was there and gone so fast that Lucia almost thought she’d imagined it.

“Lena!” Ria looked up, her face brightening. “Perfect timing! Come help us. We’re making chocolate chip cookies.”

Lena’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “No thanks. I’m good.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Ria gestured her over. “We need someone to taste test the dough and make sure it’s not poisoned.”

“I said no.” The words came out sharper than necessary. Lena’s hands gripped the straps of her backpack until her knuckles went white. “You guys look busy anyway. You don’t need me.”

She turned and walked out before anyone could respond. Her footsteps echoed on the stairs, fast and heavy. Then came the sound of her bedroom door closing. Not quite a slam, but close.

Monica’s face fell. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You didn’t do anything.” Lucia wiped her hands on her apron, her mind already following Lena up those stairs. “Keep mixing. I’ll be right back.”

She found Lena’s door closed. Lucia knocked gently. “Lena? Can I come in?”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Lucia opened the door anyway. Lena sat on her bed with her back to the door, her shoulders hunched. But Lucia could see her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Could see her wiping frantically at her eyes, trying to erase evidence of tears.

“Sweetheart.”

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said in time-bona’s voice came out too high, too tight. She grabbed a book from her nightstand and opened it like she’d been reading “Just wanted some quiet time.”

Lucia closed the door behind her and crossed to the bed. She sat down next to Lena, close enough to feel the tension radiating off her daughter’s body.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.

“Lena.” Lucia’s voice came firm but gentle. “I know you. I know when something’s wrong. And I’m not leaving this room until you tell me what it is.”

Lena kept staring at the book, but her eyes weren’t moving across the words. A tear fell onto the page, making the ink bleed.

“It’s stupid.” The whisper came broken.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid.”

Lena’s hands started shaking. The book fell from her grip onto the bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

“I’m a terrible person.” The words came out choked. “I’m jealous and selfish and terrible.”

Lucia’s heart cracked. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I saw you down there with them and I felt jealous.” Lena’s face twisted with shame. “You were baking with Monica and Ria and you all looked so happy. Like a real family. And I felt left out and angry and I hated feeling that way because they’re my sisters and I should be happy they’re here but I’m not, I’m jealous and that makes me a horrible person.”

The confession poured out in a rush. Lena buried her face in her knees, her whole body shaking with sobs she’d been holding back.

“Oh, baby.” Lucia pulled Lena into her arms. “You’re not horrible. You’re human.”

“You don’t understand.” Lena’s voice came muffled against Lucia’s shoulder. “You have your real kids back now. Your actual daughters. You don’t need me anymore.”

The words hit Lucia like a punch to the chest. “What?”

“You have Monica and Ria. Your own children. The ones you gave birth to. The ones who are actually yours.” Lena pulled back, her face wet and red. “I’m just the kid who happened to be here. Now that you have them, you don’t need me.”

“Lena, that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Lena’s hands gestured wildly. “You spend all your time with them now. Making sure Monica’s okay. Helping Ria adjust. And I get it, I do. They need you more than I do. They’ve been through so much. But I miss you. I miss us.”

Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked now. “I miss when it was just you and me in the kitchen baking. I miss our Saturday morning pancakes. I miss you tucking me in at night and reading to me. I miss being your daughter instead of just one of your daughters.”

Lucia felt her own tears starting. “Lena, you are my daughter.”

“But I’m not really, am I? Not like they are. They’re your blood. Your real family. I’m just the girl whose mom died and whose dad married you.”

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Stop Lucia cupped Lena’s face in her hands, making her look up. “You listen to me right now. You are my daughter. Completely. Absolutely. Forever.”

“But…”

“No buts. You are my star. My first daughter in this new life. The girl who taught me how to be a mother again when I thought I’d lost everything.” Lucia’s voice shook with emotion. “You saved me, Lena. When I was broken and lost, you showed me what love could look like. What family could be.”

Lena’s lip trembled. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” Lucia wiped the tears from Lena’s cheeks. “Yes, I love Monica and Ria. They’re my daughters and I’m so grateful to have them back. But that doesn’t mean I love you less. Love doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t divide. It multiplies.”

“It feels like it divides.” Lena’s whisper came small and hurt. “It feels like there’s only so much of you to go around and now I have to share and I’m getting less.”

“Then I need to do better.” Lucia pulled Lena close again. “I need to make sure you know that you’re just as important to me as they are. That having them back doesn’t change how much I need you.”

“Do you

really need me?” The question came vulnerable, desperate.

“I really need you. I need your laugh when you think something’s funny. I need your hugs when I’m having a hard day. I need your terrible jokes and your messy room and your ability to always know when I’m pretending to be fine.” Lucia kissed Lena’s forehead. “I need all of you. Every single piece. And I always will.”

Lena cried harder, but it was different now. Not the tight, ashamed crying from before. This was release. Relief.

“I love you so much.” Lucia rocked Lena gently. “You are my daughter. My star. My light. And nothing and no one will ever change that.”

They sat like that for a long time. Lucia holding Lena. Lena crying into Lucia’s shoulder. The afternoon sun moved across the floor, turning from gold to orange.

Eventually, Lena’s sobs quieted. She pulled back and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being jealous. For feeling insecure. For being a baby about this.”

“You’re not being a baby. You’re being honest about your feelings. That takes courage.” Lucia brushed hair out of Lena’s face. “And I’m sorry too. Sorry for not noticing you were hurting. Sorry for not making sure you knew you’re still my priority.”

“All of us are your priority.” Lena managed a watery smile. “That’s the problem. You’re trying to be everything to everyone.”

“I am trying to be everything to everyone. But you know what? You come first. You were here first. You chose me first. And that means something.”

Lena took a shaky breath “Can we still have our Saturday pancakes? Just you and me?”

“Absolutely. Every Saturday. That’s our time. Nobody else’s.”

“And can you still tuck me in sometimes? I know I’m too old but…”

“You’re never too old for me to tuck you in.” Lucia squeezed Lena’s hand. “I’ll tuck you in every night if you want.”

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Maybe not every night. But sometimes.” Lena’s smile grew stronger. “I do like having sisters. Most of the time. When I’m not being jealous and weird.”

“You’re allowed to be jealous and weird. You’re allowed to have complicated feelings. That’s part of being in a family.”

Lena leaned against Lucia’s shoulder. “Do you really love us all equally?”

“I really do. It’s not the same love for each of you because you’re all different people. But it’s equal in how much and how deep and how permanent it is.”

“Okay.” Lena nodded against Lucia’s shoulder. “I believe you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Lena straightened up. “We should go back down. The cookies are probably ready to go in the oven.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” Lena stood up and offered her hand to Lucia. “Let’s go bake with my sisters.”

The word came out deliberate. Intentional. My sisters.

Lucia took Lena’s hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. They walked downstairs together, still holding hands like Lena was little again.

When they entered the kitchen, Ria and Monica looked up anxiously, But before anyone could ask if everything was okay, Lena grabbed a handful of flour from the bag and threw it at Ria.

“Food fight!”

Ria’s mouth dropped open. Then she grinned and retaliated, sending a cloud of flour toward Lena. Monica squealed and joined in, tossing sugar that went everywhere. Lucia laughed and grabbed an egg, threatening to crack it over someone’s head.

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