Dil ki Dilli

Second Chance

Days passed, but no matter how busy I tried to keep myself, Rohan’s smile haunted my thoughts. Sanju, ever the perceptive one, teased me relentlessly.

"Earth to Avni," she called out, waving a hand in front of my face as we strolled through the charming lanes of Hauz Khas, her eyes dancing with amusement. "You’re daydreaming again."

I snapped back to reality, laughing as I lifted my camera to capture the vibrant street art around us. "I’m focused, Sanju. Just taking in the scenery."

But we both knew the truth—my mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment I had collided with Rohan at the food festival. His easy smile, the spark that lingered in the air between us. What if I saw him again?

And as if fate had a mischievous plan of its own, my phone buzzed with a message. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as Rohan’s name flashed across the screen.

*Hey Avni, Rohan here. Sorry again about the Momos incident. Would love to make it up to you over coffee.*

I stared at the message, my heart racing. Coffee with Rohan? Was this real?

Sanju noticed my sudden stillness, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Who’s that?" she asked, trying to peek over my shoulder.

I hesitated, then handed her my phone. "Rohan," I whispered, barely able to contain the fluttering excitement in my chest.

Sanju squealed in delight, her face lighting up like Christmas morning. "Oh my God! Avni, you have to say yes! This is fate handing you a rom-com moment on a silver platter!"

I hesitated for a brief second, nerves bubbling up inside me. But then I thought about Rohan—his warm eyes, his easy laugh—and before I could talk myself out of it, I typed out my reply:

*Hi Rohan, coffee sounds lovely. When and where?*

His response came almost instantly:

*Tomorrow, 3 PM, at The Cozy Cup?*

The butterflies in my stomach erupted into full-blown chaos, but I agreed, my hands trembling slightly as I hit send. Sanju gave me an enthusiastic high-five, her grin infectious.

The next day, I arrived at The Cozy Cup with a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement bubbling inside me. It was a quaint little café, tucked away from the main streets, its warm yellow lights glowing softly as the sun began its slow descent.

And there he was—Rohan—leaning casually against the entrance, looking impossibly handsome in a crisp white shirt that made his tanned skin glow. His eyes lit up as soon as he spotted me, and he flashed that smile—the one that had been etched in my memory since the festival.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm as I approached.

"Hey," I replied, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

We stepped inside, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around us like a cosy blanket. The café was intimate, the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, permitting you to get lost in conversation.

As we placed our orders, Rohan turned to me, curiosity shining in his eyes. "So, Avni, tell me more about what you do."

I smiled, feeling a spark of pride. "I’m a content creator. I run *Delhi Diaries*, a blog that captures the hidden gems of the city. It’s my passion project, really."

His eyes widened in recognition. "Wait, *Delhi Diaries*? I’ve seen your posts! You have such a unique way of looking at the city. It’s like you bring Delhi to life with every word and picture."

My heart swelled at the compliment, the ease between us growing with each passing moment. We fell into conversation, talking effortlessly about our shared love for Delhi’s vibrant food scene, our favourite haunts, and the stories that made the city feel like home.

Hours slipped by unnoticed as we laughed and shared anecdotes. Rohan told me about his journey as a restaurateur, how his love for food had grown from his family’s culinary traditions, and how he had built his café empire from the ground up. His passion was infectious, and I found myself hanging on to every word.

By the time we realized how long we had been talking, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the café. As we left, the evening air was cool, and Rohan insisted on walking me home.

We strolled side by side, the city’s evening hum surrounding us, but all I could focus on was the warmth radiating from him as our arms brushed occasionally.

When we finally reached my door, Rohan turned to face me, his expression softening. "Thanks for today, Avni. I had a really great time." His voice was sincere, his brown eyes locking onto mine in a way that made my heart flutter.

I smiled, feeling the same warmth spread through me. "Me too, Rohan. It was… really nice."

He hesitated for a second, then smiled, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I’d love to see you again. Soon."

My breath caught in my throat. "I’d like that," I managed the words barely a whisper.

With one last lingering glance, Rohan smiled—a promise lingering in the curve of his lips—before he turned and disappeared into the fading light of the evening, leaving me standing at my doorstep, my heart still racing.

And in that moment, I knew—this was just the beginning of something special. Something I wasn’t ready to let go of.