"Is it enough? I can make some more if you''re still hungry."


    Mrs. Jones''s noodles were legendary in the neighborhood. The heaping bowls in front of us, apanied by the sausages, were a testament to her culinary prowess-a challenge to the capacity of our stomachs.


    "It''s enough. You''ve really outdone yourself, Mrs. Jones. Thank you," They said, their voices tinged with the awe and a bit of fear at the mountain of food before them.


    Mrs. Jones didn''t mention thetest TV drama. To her, Izabe was just Izabe-a kind soul who always looked out for her small diner, not the shining star gracing the silver screen.


    "You look thinner, dear," Mrs. Jones''s voice was as soothing as a soft breeze, "Are you sure you''re eating enough?"


    Izabe chuckled, brushing off the concern. "I haven''t lost weight. Maybe it''s just theyers making my face look smaller."


    Mrs. Jones wasn''t convinced. "No, you''ve definitely slimmed down. It breaks my heart to see that. Eat up, honey; today''s meal is on the house."


    "Oh, I couldn''t possibly ept that," Izabe protested.


    "Nonsense," Mrs. Jones insisted. "I asionally treat my regrs to a free meal. Besides, we have a connection, remember that girl I told you about? The one who used to dine here often? She shared your name, Izabe. Such a sweet girl, but life wasn''t kind to her."


    Izabe''s gaze shifted subtly towards Casey, who was listening intently to Mrs. Jones.


    Mrs. Jones continued, "She was just as lovely as you, smart and business-savvy. A shame she didn''t marry well." She sighed deeply, turning her attention to Casey. Mrs. Jones wasn''t one for the movies; she stuck to her TV shows and didn''t recognize him.


    "Is this your boyfriend?" she asked.


    "He''s my husband," Izabe introduced Casey.


    Mrs. Jones''s eyes widened. "You''re married!"


    Izabe nodded, eager to share her happiness. "Yes, I wanted you to meet him."


    Mrs. Jones scrutinized Casey, her eyes lingering with the kind of attention that saw right through to the soul. Casey, aware of the importance of first impressions, greeted her anxiously, "Hello, Mrs. Jones."


    She whispered approvingly, "He


    seems like a good man." You couldCopyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.


    always tell by the eyes, and it warmed her heart to see Izabe so happy of only the other Izabe, the one lost too soon, could have had a fraction of this joy.


    Life is tough, but it''s the silent, steadfast love from those behind us that keeps the cold at bay. Their quiet affection mends hearts shattered by reality.


    "By the way, what about that cat you broughtst time? Niki, wasn''t it?" Mrs. Jones asked.


    Izabe''s expression stiffened. Mrs. Jones''s keen eye for people''s moods told her she''d struck a nerve.


    Casey reached for Izabe''s hand, gripping it gently.


    Trying to maintain herposure, Izabe couldn''t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the mention of Niki. Mrs. Jones''s memory of the cat, with its old scars and beautiful eyes, was unexpected but touching. They say as long as someone remembers the deceased kindly, they''re doing alright wherever they are Izabe hoped Niki was finding peace in some unseen ce.


    "She''s passed away," Izabe managed to say.


    Mrs. Jones, sensing the mood shift, quickly changed the subject. "You eat up. I''ll be back after I tidy the kitchen a bit."


    After they finished the hearty meal, Mrs. Jones refused to take any money for it, insisting it was her treat to celebrate their union.


    Casey and Izabe exchanged a nce, and without further protest, they epted her generous offer.


    "How about we take a picture together?" Casey suggested.


    They posed for several selfies and shared them through WhatsApp, making sure Mrs. Jones had a copy.


    Once in the car, Izabe scrolled


    through the photos on her phone, her reluctance to go palpable. Casey, ever theforter, suggested, "If you miss Mrs. Jones that much, we''lle back for noodles soon.


    Next time, we''ll bring her flowers."


    Izabe murmured in agreement, her voice muffled as she nestled closer to Casey. "I miss Niki," she whispered.


    "The sunflowers at home are blooming beautifully. I like to think Niki is doing well in heaven too," Casey reassured her, though he knew no other cat could rece Niki for Izabe.


    "I miss my mom," Izabe confessed. Mrs. Jones''s kindness reminded her of the motherly love she''d lost. If her mother were still alive, would she be as gentle as Mrs. Jones?