I Fell In Love With My Maid Mga Nobela at Kwento

“We met at a local market where I helped her pack some of her goods to her master’s car.” “Master?” “Yes. She worked for a rich man in the community as a live-in maid. She was young and beautiful, and to my absolute delight, single. So, I pursued her. For days I would hang around the market, hoping she would come around, completely neglecting what I had been sent to do. Soon after, we became close and eventually fell in love. It was the best feeling in the world. Falling in love with a beautiful woman. You should try it too, son.”

The lady looked at me with that sad expression again. "Love sucks." I said. "all my life I imagined I was going to be one of those cliché, a wife, kids, a pet, a house with a pretty garden. Somewhere along the way that prospect got blurry and I saw another future, with someone else. But I fucked up, and now five years later I'm doing the same thing I did back then, I'm hurting her and I'm hurting me. Maybe love doesn't suck, maybe I suck at loving."

She tapped on her heels as she waited for an immediate response. I looked at Theodore who pursed his lips in a line. "You will be taken to your respective rooms immediately." he said through gritted teeth. Seconds passed before a group of maids came to us. One was assigned to each of us. The maid who was assigned to me bowed her head before she introduced herself with a cheerful smile. "Hello! My name is Love. I will be your personal maid from starting today," her voice was just as cheerful as her smile. She was just bouncing with full-blown optimism that I couldn't help but admire. It was contagious and I couldn't help but smile back.

“Just teaching this maid her place.” Her eyes cut to me. Sharp. Cruel. She stalked forward and yanked my chin up. Pain shot through me. “So you’re the little brat causing trouble,” she sneered. “Listen well. In two days, I’ll be married to Reynold. A lowlife like you isn’t welcome anywhere near us.” Her spit landed on my cheek. For the past three years, he is the man I have eyes for and he showered me with so much love. Because of his love, I forget all my pains. My low status, my miserable life. Even though I'm his personal maid, he made me feel like a woman.

I thought he was going to yell but then he continued down the stairs, past the mess, past me, and out through the front doors without a word. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. The maid beside me exhaled too. "You're lucky," she whispered, barely audible. "Lucky how?" She shook her head quickly and went back to sweeping, like she'd already said too much. *** On the sixth day, the young maid who had almost smiled at me in the hallway sat across from me at the staff table at lunch. Her name was Rina. Twenty years old. Two years at the estate.

The last sliver of hope inside me went out. It came to me then. Early on, when Ryan and I were still new, I'd gotten sick once with a fever close to 104. He'd carried me through the snow in the dead of night, stumbling the whole way to the hospital with me half delirious on his back. He never left my side the days I was admitted. The smallest sign of discomfort and he'd be frantic, pacing like a cat on hot coals. Even the doctors and nurses said he was the model boyfriend. Back then I thought Ryan had to be the love of my life. So the love had been real. And so was the falling out of it.

I shook my head to clear the strange dirty thoughts but her voice quickened the process. "Shouldn't you be working, maid?". She asked with narrowed eyes, drawing out the *maid* as if to remind me of my status. Without replying to her, I retreated to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps climbing up the stairs with giggling sounds. Must be the girlfriend. I concluded.

Give me patience to deal with this girl. How are children of these days are raised. Magdalena went on to scold Rim who is the newest maid that just joined them many times as she wished. . She doesn't know how to clean, cook and even wash clothes yet she is the old woman's favorite. I think this unfair. Interjected Harriet another maid around in the kitchen.

He could still picture her—disappearing into the compound, her beauty soft, her steps light, her presence unforgettable. She was Isis’s maid. Innocent. Graceful. Unaware of what she stirred in him. And now, tied to a chair, pain biting through him, one thought kept him from surrendering to the dark. Her.