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The lights were off when I reached the house.
I should have parked the car and walked inside, but instead, my hands moved to the gear shift, pulling it into reverse.
She must be at the bakery.
That woman is stubborn as hell, she won't close the bakery until that ugly motherfucker closes his cafe.
My mind was racing, the events of the day playing on a loop as I steered the car back onto the road. The drive to Seerat's bakery was a short one, yet it felt longer as I replayed our last conversation over and over in my head.
The way she had shown up at my office with lunch, the warmth in her eyes, no one had done it for me before and it had lingered with me, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the day.
As I pulled up to the bakery, I took a moment to collect myself, turning off the engine and leaning back in the seat.
Taking the house keys from the key space, I threw them somewhere in the back, I'll tell her I lost the key.
Stepping out of the car, I locked it before walking into the bakery, where was she?
"Seerat?"
I called her name but she didn't answer, where the fuck is she? I waited for a few minutes before pulling the door that separated the sitting area and the counter and made my way for the kitchen when my eyes fell on the floor.
There she was, her head leaning on the display, her pink dress stained with coffee.
"Seerat?" I called again but this time, instead of turning to me, she got up and started to walk into the kitchen.
I held her wrist before she could walk inside, pulling her back towards me but she held my wrist and tried to pull it off her hand, I could see the tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she fought to get free.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, "Did I do something?"
"Let go," She replied, her voice scratchy due to crying.
"How did this happen?" I asked, looking at her dress, my hold on her wrist tightening as her fight grew stronger.
"I just want to be alone, can you please do that for me?" She asked, closing her eyes tightly as the tears streamed down her face.
"Don't cry, please." I didn't realise when I left her wrist and stepped closer to her, wiping her tears off her face. Touching her chin with my forefinger, I made her look up.
Her eyes were filled with anger, frustration clear on her face.
"Kisne meri broccoli ko pareshan kia?" I asked. (Who troubled my broccoli?)
