Forever, Again

Past: Sep 22, 2015

Aliya's phone calls with her mother had become a predictable routine, filled with the same grievances and nostalgia for what used to be. As she walked the familiar path from university to the cafe where she worked, her mother's voice crackled through the phone. "Alu, it's just not the same here without you," her mother lamented, her words heavy with unspoken accusations. The rustle of her sari could almost be heard as she fussed around in the background. "Your Baba, he won't even move to help me, and here I am, drowning in chores!"

Aliya's steps slowed, her boots tapping a hesitant rhythm on the cracked pavement. She could almost smell the spices of her mother's kitchen, a stark contrast to the faint scent of exhaust mingling with urban greenery air around her. "Ma, I know it's hard. I miss home too," she whispered, her voice barely rising above the whoosh of a passing bus.

Her mother's sigh crackled through the line, a sound as familiar as the monsoon rains back home. "If only you were married, I could come and stay with you," she said, her voice a blend of hope and resignation. Aliya wanted to focus on her mother's words, to reassure her, but her thoughts kept drifting to Dylan.

She blamed herself for not inviting him in for coffee, for not directly asking for his number, for not flirting enough to make it clear that she liked him.

"Why didn't I just ask for his number?" she thought, distractedly wiping the counter. "It would've been so easy to invite him in for coffee. What was I thinking?"

"Excuse me, miss?"

Her head jerked up. "Oh, sorry! What can I get for you?"

The customer repeated their order, and she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Dylan. It had been four days since he'd driven her back to her dorm, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

"Maybe he's just shy," she mused while steaming milk, glancing at her phone again. "Maybe he's waiting for me to make the first move."

She kept hoping for a friend request from him on Facebook. Each notification sent her heart racing, a thud of hope, only to be followed by disappointment when she saw it wasn't from him.

"Come on, get it together," she muttered to herself, forcing a smile as she handed the customer their coffee. "It's just one guy."

But as she took the next order, her thoughts circled back to him. "Why didn't I flirt more? Did he even know I liked him?" The questions spun in her mind, relentless and unresolved, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Tuesday came unceremoniously, cloaked in the ordinary. Aliya walked into the cafe, her workplace, enveloped by the familiar buzz of student conversations and the rich, inviting scent of brewed coffee. She tied on her apron, her movements automatic, her mind still wandering to thoughts of Dylan.

The chime of the doorbell snapped her back to reality. Lifting her gaze automatically, her heart skipped a beat—the kind of skip that felt like a fluttering butterfly trapped inside her chest. Dylan walked through the door, breaking the routine of his usual Thursday visits. He wasn't just a figment of her overthinking; he was here, on a Tuesday.

His eyes briefly scanned the menu board overhead, though Aliya knew he came in often enough to know it by heart. Watching him pretend to ponder his choices, she took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before she could greet him.

"Hi, Dylan," she managed, her voice a mix of warmth and surprise.

"Hey, Aliya," he responded, his eyes brightening with recognition and something more—something hopeful. "I'll have a large black coffee and a classic chocolate pistachio croissant."

She nodded, her fingers trembling slightly as they danced across the register. "Will that be to go, or are you staying?"

"To go, please," he said, tapping his fingers against the wooden counter, a rhythmic tap-tap that echoed his growing nerves.