Diamond Hearts (Volume I & II)

13. The Dinner

Mahil :

"Oh my dear Nachos, last night I made a mistake when I decided to save you guys for today. How cruel of these people to stop me from having this delight," I held the orange packet of Cornitos which was half-empty.

On usual days, I could go without food for some ten to twelve hours easily, but when they asked me specifically to not eat anything just for three hours, my stomach was growling with hunger.

"I absolutely hate this. Why didn't someone tell me to have my lunch before going there?" Placing the pack above the refrigerator, I walked back to the living room fearing that my mind might turn rebellious any given moment.

If I wanted to comply with Kuhoo's instructions, then staying in the kitchen while staring at doritos and mayonnaise wasn't a good idea. Television showed nothing interesting. I tried to flip through the pages of 'The monk who sold his Ferrari' but it couldn't help me to forget my huge unsatiated appetite. It was already two hours since I reached home, did she forget about the offer to cook for us?

I felt stupid waiting for a woman whom I had known just for one and a half week. Even during this period we hardly had civil conversations. Maybe she was caught up with something. Why did I feel sad at the thought of her not showing up?

My chain of thoughts broke as the phone buzzed with Freyer's call. Swiping it right, I put the speaker on, "What is it?"

"Miss Khurana called. She was asking for our confirmation regarding the schedule. So, are we still going to start from Wednesday?" He asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Boss, Wednesday is day after tomorrow. We aren't even ready with the basics yet," He sounded sceptic.

"Send me the songs that she handed over to you during the meeting and give our confirmation to Miss Khurana that everything will be as per schedule," I told. He just hummed before cutting the call.

Doorbell rang and I went ahead to open the door. I couldn't help but feel a bit hazy looking at her standing on the other side in a loose palazzo and cream sweatshirt, carrying an airtight casserole. So, she actually cooked for me! Was I supposed to be happy about it? It felt weird giving to the fact that I either prepared food for myself or ate in restaurants. My eyes swelled with tears at the memory that last time when someone else cooked me anything home-made was also the last time I saw my parents alive.

Ten years mamma, ten years. How was the fate so gruesome, or maybe I was too cold to the world? If it didn't happen in these ten years, why was she standing at my doorstep tormenting the plain lines on the graph of my life? Why had I not refused Kuhoo when she proposed it in the first place?

Promise me, you will wait for her.

Mamma's words fell on my ears and I released a shaky breath as waves of goosebumps passed across my skin. Trying hard to gulp the suddenly formed lump in my throat, I nodded and signalled her to come inside when she was about to step back sensing the awkwardness.

"Where's the kitchen?" She asked.

Unable to form coherent words, I just pointed in the left direction.

What the hell was that?

Making my way to the fridge, I drank cold water almost emptying the bottle while she got busy serving the pasta in two plates.

Was I really ready to do this?

Maybe not, but then why did the thought of her walking away feel weirdly painful?

"I hope you like mac and cheese. Because anything too spicy, sour, or sweet won't be good for a few days," She smiled placing two forks in the dishes one by one.