Like Water For Chocolate Novels & Stories

Outside, Lira sits on a wooden bench, breathing deeply as an attendant presses a cloth to her shoulder. “Water,” she requests quietly. A maid hurries forward with a bottle of water whose lid has already been uncorked for her. Lira smiles and mutters, “Thank you.” She does not think much about the fact that the lid should not have been uncorked for her. She simply thinks that the maid is just being nice. Nerrissa watches from a distance, unseen beneath the canopy’s shadow. The maid has done as instructed yet again. Wolfsbane is laced easily—colorless, tasteless—into the bottle of water.

As he does so, I take a harsh gulp of water. Leia, drawn in by the irresistible temptation of her chocolate cupcake, wastes no time in tearing off its outer layer and taking a big bite. I can practically taste the sweetness from where I sit, imagining the decadent flavor on my own tongue. But alas, that would be crossing a line. "I want some," I murmur to Leia, causing her to freeze and lock eyes with me, a hint of nervousness flickering in her beautiful gaze. A small smile plays at the corners of my mouth.

The city hadn't been good to her father, and it hadn't been good to her. ​She reached for the ceramic sugar bowl in the center of the island. She took a spoonful. Then another. She paused, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, thinking I was looking down at my phone. She dropped a third spoonful into the black liquid. ​"That's a lot of sugar," I said. ​She didn't stop stirring. The metal spoon made a rhythmic, clicking sound against the porcelain. "It tastes like dirt otherwise." ​"It's Colombian."

Around here I doubt that someone is coming to rob us, but it is better to be safe. He lets go of me and closes the door when I finish coming in. "Let's go have coffee." I think we have a lot to talk about. I put an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe it's a little late for coffee." How about a water chocolate? —It refers to liquid chocolate, which is almost a national anthem. It is nothing more than a chocolate with sugar, a pinch of salt, more water than chocolate tables and perhaps a cinnamon stick. It is the breakfast of the poor, as some call it. I call it delight.

Amelia was finally satisfied, sped up, and the Dodge Tomahawk seemed like it could cut through the black mist as it rushed toward the west side of the city. At this moment, Selena came into the kitchen with a shopping basket. She took that little bottle out of her pocket. It was really easy to use—just mix it into water, no color, no taste, and nothing could be found afterward. Once the offering drank it, they would follow your orders, no matter what you told them to do.

She added it to the flour and frowned when nothing happened. Then she stared at the bowl again. "Wait, what water is this?" She asked. "Water from the tap," I answered. "No! The recipe is ruined! I asked for soda water, not tap water. Ms. Rainbow, you ruined it. I doubt if I can recreate it now because it took so much time to get here," she cried. I furrowed my brows at her. I wondered why Agatha was not saying anything. How was it my fault that I brought ordinary tap water?

She brought out a large mug of chilled Tascalate, my favorite Mexican chocolate drink since she introduced it to me years ago. I was guilty of not even thinking about her until I needed her help. I was too caught up in Alpha Kayden's thoughts and the upcoming Luna Ceremony to remember this grumpy old lady who was sweet only to me. "You forgot about me, didn't you?" I choked on an ice cube while taking a sip of the tasty drink she made. Sometimes I thought she was a witch. There was no way this drink would taste so good if she had made it yesterday and left it in the fridge for me.

I shuffled over to the corner, my thin blanket pooling around me as I reached for the bags. Tearing into the first package, I devoured the contents as if I hadn't eaten in days. The taste was sweet, a stark contrast to the bitterness of my situation. I munched rhythmically, each bite grounding me inch by inch. Water—a shimmering oasis—sparkled within the bottle as I lifted it to my lips, the cool liquid rushing down my throat, soothing the arid desperation I had been feeling.

Time seemed to pass by so slowly back then, but it felt so heartwarming. Someone suddenly tapped her on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw a thermos flask that Christopher handed to her. "Have some warm water." She took it and felt the bottle in her hands which warmed her up immediately. She twisted the bottle cap open. It was her favorite honey water, sweet but not cloying. Amelia looked up at him in surprise. She used to always praise Dorothy's honey water for being the best drink she ever had. So, he remembered all these little details. He knew what love was.

I laughed, the sound ridiculous against the quiet of the studio. I ate one. Then another. The chocolate was better than any weather in the world. It melted, dark and rich and absurdly perfect. With each bite something unwound inside me and I remembered simpler things like the warmth of Kyle’s laugh that used to curl around my name, the ordinary kindnesses that had been rarer than diamonds since I’d been sold.