When Rania Safi's life crumbles in a mere six months, Officer Johan Li is left with unrequited emotions and unanswered questions. On the other end of the same city, Roman Sinclair and Elham Khan find themselves on the two side of the same coin.
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His feet came to halt when he opened the front door and found her standing in the kitchen. The soft rays, reflecting off the ocean, cast a warm glow on her through the kitchen window. She was boiling water, her movements were hesitant given her right arm in the sling. She barely glanced at him when the door creaked, announcing his arrival. After her nightmares he wasn't expecting to see her today. Though her presence calmed his frayed nerves as he didn't know whether she approved of his actions the night before. She squirmed under his gaze, and blinked, forcing himself to look so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable.
"Good Morning," He whispered, walking past her to the fridge to refill the water he'd finished on his run. His kitchen was as pristine as he left it. The only items out of place on those white counters were a jar of tea leaves that Nurhana left behind, jar of sugar, and two cups. He paused for a second and glanced over at her. The aroma of the tea was different than the usual one he drank. It reminded him of his childhood he spent at Nurhana's in Singapore. She acknowledged his greeting with a faint nod with her eyes still lingering on the boiling water. "What's your favorite breakfast?" He wasn't much of a talker, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable or scare her away so he found something harmless to talk about.
He also needed that information anyways because when he usually cooked she hardly touched her food. He didn't know whether it was the pain or she didn't like his food. He was fairly a good cook, not so much his choice but his parents'. His mother had stood over him, insisting he learn heart healthy recipes, given her background as cardiologist it made sense. While his father was more of live to eat kind of a man so he tried to instill traditional chinese recipes in his mind before they decided to move back to Singapore. So a sense of helplessness would settle over him when he would watch her push her food around.
"Me?" Her words wavered, as if she couldn't fathom why he would willingly talk to her or show interest in what she would prefer to eat. Silent rage coursed through his veins as his hands curled tightly around the hydro flask. Though he held his anger within, knowing she couldn't handle anything loud or rage-filled, at least not now with her wounds barely healing.
"Chia Seed Pudding with yogurt and fruit." A small smile graced her lips as her gaze traveled from the pot to the wall behind it. She found herself drifting into her memories. "I would take it with me to work. It was healthy, filling, and convenient - the last thing I wanted to do was cook before the airport chaos."
A soft laugh escaped her lips unknowingly, but before she could fully grasp it, it faded, leaving behind a mask of defeat and fear. It wasn't rocket science to decipher that it was the aftermath of her marriage that caused the sorrow.
"So, why chai today?" He gently interrupted her thoughts, pointing at the bubbling water. Slightly reminding her to continue her task and to distract her from the vicious grip of her past.
"I have to have it in the morning," that hint of smile was back on her lips and it flickered her eyes slightly. "I'm not much of fan of it, but it's a familial tradition. Even if the world is turning upside down, my mother needs her cup of chai in the morning and I kind of got used to it."
