I Never Asked ..

Chapter 17

"Sometimes I wonder,

that one missing sock after doing laundry is the smart one.

After being unhappy for so long,

it finally walks away from a frayed,

worn-out relationship."

― Anthony Liccione

_________________________

Rumors!

Misha's POV

The next morning greeted me with a warm smile, a rarity that I hadn't experienced in years. It felt like waking up in my own house, a place where people truly loved me. The previous night, after an emotional heart-to-heart with my dad, Sahil surprised us by entering the room with a cake in his hands.

It was Dad's idea to celebrate all the birthdays that had gone uncelebrated in my life. Following that, we had a movie night together, which somehow turned into a spirited pillow fight. Initially, I had intended to spend more time talking to Dad and asking the unanswered questions that loomed over our past. However, witnessing these moments of happiness and togetherness, I decided to let that idea go for the time being.

Perhaps Mom's diary held the key to solving the mysteries that had shaped our lives.

Returning to the present, I got out of bed with a smile on my face and began preparing for college. I chose to wear my favorite color, blue and applied some light makeup. The thought of reading more of the diary crossed my mind as soon as I saw Dad in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with a genuine smile on his face.

Just reading a portion of that diary had already brought a sense of family and happiness into my life, something I had always longed for. I couldn't help but wonder what else might be hidden within its pages, ready to reshape my entire existence.

I entered the kitchen to help Dad set the table, but I noticed that Sahil was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in his room, and he wasn't in the kitchen either.

"Good morning, Mishi mish. If you're looking for Sahil, he had early practice today, so he left and asked me to drop you off at college," Dad informed me as soon as he saw me.

"I see. So, what's the special breakfast you're preparing today?" Dad had promised to make a special breakfast for me the night before.

"It's going to be a surprise, so I suggest you just sit there," he replied, pointing toward the dining table, "and wait until it's served."

"Okay, boss," I said, teasingly.

I took a seat at the table and watched as Dad worked his culinary magic. After a while, he set a plate in front of me, and I felt like a waterfall was forming in my mouth. It was a bread roll, my absolute favorite dish.

Did I mention that my Dad was the world's best cook? He had always been the one responsible for cooking, even when Mom was around. Mom used to tell me that he had dreamed of becoming a MasterChef, but his work had prevented him from pursuing that dream. Now, knowing some of the truth, it filled me with joy to learn that he had cooked not only for Prisha but also for my happiness.

Back in the present, I gazed at the dish and then at Dad. "Do you think I still love this dish?" I asked, half intending to playfully scare him.

"Of course, Mish! Don't try to fool me. Sahil told me that you're still the biggest fan of my cooking, and this dish holds the number one spot," he said with such casual certainty that I couldn't help but question my futile attempt to tease him. My Dad, the Crafty Culinary Master.