"I don't know anything about his past relationships. What if I'm just a fling to him?".MEERA
"Who said I'm not enjoying? Pero, these one-night flings are not my thing. If I want someone, I want her for myself, and she will be mine." ADRIAN
Adrian...
It's been a bit lonely without your comments, so please, please, pretty please, share your feelings and make my day brighter! 🙏
Burlington:
Evelyn Miller house.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting colorful confetti on the dust bunnies doing their morning ballet. But the real party was brewing inside Evelyn – today was the day her grandson, Adrian, was finally coming home after six long years. The last time she saw him, was at Mary's funeral. Seeing him so heartbroken, holding back tears with clenched fists, had left a permanent mark on her soul.
Adrian's father had recently shared updates on his studies, carefully skipping any mention of Adrian's boxing to keep Evelyn from worrying. Wanting him to feel at home, Evelyn had workers freshen up his usual room. Now, with the kitchen filled with the warm scent of blueberry muffins baking, she was pulled from her thoughts by the familiar voice of Meera.
"Granny!" Meera's voice was as bright as the afternoon sun streaming through the window. She bounced into the kitchen, her eyes twinkling with mischief and a small package in hand. Wearing a cute sundress and cardigan, Meera grinned, holding the package out with a little flourish.
"Come in, come in!" Evelyn smiled, wiping her hands on her apron as she welcomed her in.
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"I made blueberry muffins, and you love them too, that's why I came," she said, her voice soft and melodic. Meera enjoyed baking, finding solace and joy in the process. Whenever boredom crept in, her instinct led her to the kitchen, where she would whip up delightful treats. Today, a glimmer of hope nudged her to make those blueberry muffins. She knew Adrian loved them; it was a detail etched in her memory from his past visits. Evelyn's heart skipped a beat. The truth was, Meera hadn't planned on baking. But a whisper of hope, like a hidden ingredient, had nudged her towards the batter and oven. Now, holding the warm box.
"Oh, Meera, you shouldn't have!" Evelyn exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion. "But how thoughtful! They smell delicious." A shy smile stretched across Meera's lips as she mumbled a grateful, "Thank you, Granny." But her words seemed to catch in her throat, leaving unspoken emotions swirling in her eyes. Before Evelyn could delve deeper, Meera let out a startled gasp, her cheeks flushing pink.
"Oh my goodness, I completely forgot! I left something important back home," she stammered, her voice tripping over itself. With a hurried apology, she shot out of the kitchen, her footsteps echoing like the frantic rhythm of her racing heart. Evelyn chuckled, watching her hasty exit. Though Meera's reason for leaving might have been a little white lie, she couldn't help but feel a pang of understanding. With her quiet nature and observant eyes, Meera had likely picked up on the nervous energy swirling around the house in anticipation of Adrian's arrival. Maybe she needed a moment to collect herself and process the emotions swirling within her heart, She rushed to her home.
After a few minutes of Meera's rush, The taxi that Adrian came to stopped right in front of Evelyn's house. He casually hopped out, his movements oozing a relaxed confidence. With a practiced flick, he removed his sunglasses, tucking them onto his black jacket. A white T-shirt peeked out, hinting at his laid-back yet stylish vibe. A smile bloomed on his face as his gaze swept across the familiar house. Memories, sweet and old, danced in his eyes. He remembered summers spent here with his sister, laughter echoing through the halls, and the comforting aroma of Evelyn's baking. But most vividly, he remembered his "fresa," Meera. His gaze shifted, drawn by a familiar pull. There it was, Meera's house, nestled next door. A smile tugged at his lips as he saw the nameplate: "Mr. Kumaran." It was a confirmation, a bright spark igniting in his chest. Meera was still here. His smile widened, genuine and warm. This wasn't just a house; it was a treasure chest of his past, a place where the ghosts of happy days played amongst the sunbeams. A mix of excitement and apprehension bubbled within him, the fear of things changing mingling with the anticipation of seeing Evelyn and Meera. But as he reached the porch, His knuckles hovered against the worn wood, anticipation a thrumming current in his veins.
