𝐔𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

17: An Invitation

(Office)
Engaged in the tasks at hand, my mind was fully dipped in my work. Suddenly, breaking the silence of my house my phone's ring devastated the calmness of it. I Glance at the screen, my heart skipped a beat as I noted the name.

"Mia's calling..."

My fingers hovered over the screen before I answered. I couldn't deny it—my pulse quickened at the thought of hearing her. Mia's voice cut through the silence before I even had a chance to speak.

"Hey, how are you? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Please tell me you're fine," she rushed out, her words splintered with worry, raw and exposed.

"I'm so sorry for what happened last night," she confessed, her voice heavy with an undertow of guilt. "I never should've left you. If I hadn't..."

Trying to pull her back from the edge. My voice was steady but soft. I stepped in, "Mia, breathe. I'm fine,"

"You know I'm here for you, right? I care about you more than you know. I just—need to know you're safe."

Her voice dragged slightly, the poundage of last night's hangover obvious. "No, no, let me finish... Ugh, my head's killing me," she groaned.

"Anyway, what are you doing? I hope I didn't disturb you."

The regard in her voice yanked at my heartstrings.

"No, no, you haven't disturbed me at all." And don't worry Mia; you could never be a disturbance. I meant it when I said I'm always here for you. You can rely on me, no matter what."

Her sigh bore a relief, but in typical Mia fashion, she was already moving on. "Okay, so... coffee later? After you're done with work?"

"Coffee? In the evening?" I teased.

"What about dinner instead? Come to my place," she suggested, her tone light, but with an explicit suspense.

"That sounds perfect. You want me to cook for you?"

"You'll cook for me?" she asked, her voice impish, almost brazen.

"Absolutely. I'd love to." The idea of preparing dinner for her had my thoughts racing.

"Okay, 7:30 works?" she asked, her eagerness clear.

"7:30 it is."

After hanging up, I led straight to the store. Butter chicken it was. I moved through the aisles with purpose, grabbing each ingredient. When I got home, I tidied up—more out of nervous excitement than necessity. Every pillow was fluffed, every surface wiped down. I double-checked the lighting, making sure the place had the right atmosphere.

(Dinner)

The doorbell chimed, jolting me out of my thoughts. I practically sprinted to the door.

And there she stood.

In an instant, our arms reached out, embracing each other warmly...

We hugged, our arms pulling each other in without hesitation.

Mia stepped inside, her gaze immediately scanning the space. "This is stunning," she said, her eyes wide with genuine admiration.

"Thanks," I replied, pleased that she noticed.

As we wandered further into the apartment, I handed her a glass of water.

"So, how long have you been living here?" she asked, casually curious.

"Six months," I said. "Some stuff is still in boxes."

She smirked, that familiar playfulness creeping back in. "So, no dinner yet? Because I'm starving."

I laughed. "Dinner's ready. Let's eat."

Her face lit up like a kid unwrapping a gift. "Finally!" she exclaimed, and we made our way to the table.

As she took her first bite, her eyes widened. "Oh my God, this is amazing!" she said, the words almost spilling out. "You've got to teach me how to cook like this."

I chuckled, brushing off the compliment. "Mia, you don't need to learn how to cook."

Her eyes sparkled with determination as she leaned forward, her gaze locked on mine. "No, no," she insisted, her conviction unwavering. "It's a basic skill, and everyone should know it. It brings people together, just like this meal has brought us closer."

I nodded, feeling the truth in her words. "Yeah, you're right. It's definitely more than just a skill."

You know what?" She began, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "My brother, Akshay, is a superb cook. He prepares his own meals."

Her words struck me. "Wait, your brother cooks " I asked, surprised. "I thought you two lived together."

With a gentle shake of her head. "No, he lives close to his workplace," she clarified...

"He has a very busy schedule."

"Ah, I see," I murmured as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"That explains why he was late that night,"

The mention of that dinner night we enjoyed awakened a flood of memories, filling my senses with bittersweet nostalgia.

A surge of recollections consumed my thoughts. Oh, how could I have forgotten? Those sounds of his footsteps always made my legs feel like jelly, and I am jelly."

The curtain had been lifted, exposing the stark reality that my knowledge of Akshay and his multifaceted life was woefully limited.

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, and we found ourselves swapping stories.  She mentioned her latest project—a restaurant she was helping open, and the excitement in her voice was palpable.

Oh, and before I forget!" she said suddenly. "We're having a grand opening soon. You've got to come—it's going to be a night to remember."

WC:917

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