See you in the Aisle!

Chapter 13

In the café's hush, a ghost from yesteryears,

Unveils a tempest, stirring old fears.

Through burnt attempts and flavors askew,

Will our hearts, amidst chaos, find truths anew?

It was a lazy weekend afternoon, and Matteo and I were out for coffee, enjoying a quiet moment together. The café had a cozy atmosphere, and I was sipping on my cappuccino, savoring the warmth and comfort it brought. Matteo, as always, was the perfect companion, his presence calm and reassuring. Everything was perfect—until it wasn't.

Suddenly, a tall, slender girl with perfectly styled hair appeared beside our table. She flashed Matteo a wide smile, her voice high-pitched and overly familiar.

"Matteo! Oh my gosh, it's been forever! I've missed you!" she exclaimed, completely ignoring me as if I didn't exist.

I blinked, caught off guard by her presence. I kept sipping my coffee, but my mind was racing. Who is this girl? And why is she acting like I'm invisible?

Matteo, to his credit, seemed as uncomfortable as I was. He smiled politely, but there was an edge to it. "Uh, hi, Louraine. It's... been a while. Oh, by the way, this is Aria, my girlfriend."

At that, Louraine finally acknowledged my existence, turning to face me with a smile that was as fake as it was saccharine. "Hi, I'm Louraine," she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "I'm the ex."

I felt a surge of irritation. Two could play this game. My face lit up with a smile that was just as cheeky as hers. "Hi, I'm Aria," I replied, meeting her gaze with unwavering confidence. "I'm the girlfriend."

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly—she didn't like that. Good. Matteo was trying to hide a smile, but I could see the amusement in his eyes. After a brief, awkward silence, Louraine said a quick goodbye to Matteo, still ignoring me completely, and walked away. I raised my eyebrows, more annoyed than ever.

I tried to focus back on my coffee, but the irritation lingered. Even the caffeine couldn't shake it off. The rest of our coffee date was a blur, and I was quietly fuming the whole way back to Matteo's apartment.

Once we got back, we resumed our usual evening routine: cooking lessons. Matteo had been making great progress lately. He'd mastered a few easy meals, so tonight, I was teaching him how to cook sinigang—myfavorite dish. But my irritation was still simmering, and I wasn't in the mood to help.

I sat on the countertop, arms crossed, scrolling through my phone while he chopped vegetables. Matteo noticed my lack of enthusiasm and asked, "Babe, can you help me, please?"

I didn't even look up. Instead, I pulled up an old message from two years ago, one of our first conversations, and held it up for him to see. "Remember this?" I said, my tone laced with sarcasm. "You once told me you tried cooking to impress a girl. Well, that girl was your ex, and all I got was disappointment."

Matteo froze, staring at the message before turning to me with a mixture of guilt and confusion. "Aria, that was... that was a long time ago. And besides, I'm trying to impress you now, aren't I?"

His attempt to smooth things over didn't do much to soothe my irritation. I just rolled my eyes and kept scrolling through my phone, refusing to engage. Matteo hesitated, then put down the knife he was holding, looking at me thoughtfully.

"Are you... jealous?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," I replied, my voice low and rasped with honesty.

Matteo blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. For a moment, he looked lost, like he didn't know what to do or say. Then he started talking, trying to reassure me with sweet words and gentle promises. But nothing he said could ease the gnawing insecurity I felt.

He eventually realized his words weren't having the desired effect, so he sighed and went back to cooking, telling me random stories as he worked. I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but I was still stewing in my thoughts.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Matteo served the sinigang. I picked up my spoon, bracing myself for what was likely to be a mediocre attempt at my favorite dish. But as soon as I tasted it, I couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Be!" I said, struggling to contain my smile, "sinigang is supposed to be sour, not... whatever this is. It's salty, bitter, and sweet—all at the same time!"

Matteo looked mortified for a moment, but then he started laughing too. "Okay, okay, I messed up. But hey, at least it's unique, right?"

I couldn't stay mad at him—not when he looked so genuinely sorry and endearing. The ridiculousness of the situation, combined with the taste of his failed sinigang, had completely washed away my earlier irritation.

I realized that, as much as I feared Matteo finding someone better than me, what we had was special—flawed, imperfect, but real. And in that moment, with the lingering taste of his not-so-sour sinigang in my mouth, I felt a sense of relief and happiness.

Matteo might not be a master chef, and I might still get jealous sometimes, but at least we could laugh about it together. And that, I thought, was something worth holding onto.