Café du Destin

Ep :: 8

Priya's curious gaze met Ram's as she questioned his unexpected presence in the kitchen.

With a faint grin, 

Ram replied, "I was just lending a helping hand, wiping that stain off." 

Priya, feeling a rush of nerves, quickly suggested, "You should wait outside." 

Ram's brow furrowed in mild confusion as he asked, "Why? Do I make you nervous?" 

Priya's response was swift, her tone defensive, "Why would I be nervous? I just thought you might feel uncomfortable in the kitchen."

Ram, sensing her discomfort, reassured her with a playful tone, "I was just feeling bored, so I came here to see. Let me see what's cooking." 

Their exchange hung in the air, a delicate dance of words masking the underlying tension between them.

As Priya stirred the pots with fervor, Ram stood in quiet admiration, his gaze fixed on her every movement. It was a mesmerizing sight for him, an unexpected pull towards this woman he had only recently met. The unique magnetism she exuded left him bewildered, unable to comprehend the burgeoning feelings within him.

Meanwhile, Priya couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, sensing a pair of eyes trailing her every move. Determined to avoid any slip-ups, she focused intently on her cooking. Yet, amidst her concentration, she found herself grappling with confusion over Ram's sudden kindness. Was he perhaps flirting with her? The thought crossed her mind before she dismissed it with a self-deprecating laugh, reminding herself of her simple life as a humble café owner.

As Priya grappled with her thoughts, she accidentally grabbed a piping hot pan with her bare hand, resulting in a sharp cry of pain. Startled, Ram rushed to her side, his concern evident on his face. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, unsure of how to help.

Seeing a bowl of ice water nearby, Ram quickly took action, gently guiding Priya's hand into the soothing cold water. He tenderly rubbed her hand, trying to alleviate her pain. In that moment, as their eyes met, Priya felt a stirring within her, a sense that something significant was unfolding between them. But as swiftly as the realization dawned, she pushed it aside, focusing on the practical matter at hand.

Sensing her discomfort, Ram withdrew his touch and suggested she step back. "You don't need to cook anymore," he stated firmly, his concern for her well-being overriding any other considerations.

Despite the pain throbbing in her hand, Priya was resolute in her decision to continue cooking. With determination etched in her eyes, she declined Ram's offer to take over, insisting that she could manage and expressing her desire to serve him for the night. Moved by the sense of determination radiating from her, Ram couldn't bring himself to refuse her request.

However, a flicker of concern shadowed his features as he asked if she would truly be able to manage. Priya met his gaze with unwavering assurance, nodding her head in affirmation. Satisfied with her response, Ram reluctantly exited the kitchen, leaving Priya to her task.

Alone once more, Priya took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain in her hand. With determination fueling her every move, she resumed her cooking, her focus unwavering as she prepared a meal with care and precision.

After some time of waiting, Priya emerged from the kitchen, presenting the dish she had prepared. Ram's surprise was evident as he exclaimed, "Ratatouille from an Indian cook, that's impressive! I've heard that it takes years to master this dish. Let me see."

Smiling, Priya replied, "Thank you, sir. I'll pour you something to drink. What would you like?" Ram requested a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, to which Priya nodded with a smile, acknowledging his choice. "That's a nice choice, sir. I'll be back in a moment. Enjoy your dish," she said before retreating briefly.

Upon her return, Priya held a bottle of wine, and she noticed that Ram hadn't started eating yet. Ram explained that he preferred to clear his palate with a sip of wine first. Understanding his preference, Priya poured a generous amount of wine into a glass, readying it for Ram to enjoy.

After Priya was about to leave, Ram suggested, "It would be nice if you give me some company along with the food." Priya chuckled, teasingly remarking, "Then it will be tough for you to judge my recipe independently." Ram, with a grin, assured her, "Don't worry, you can't influence my reviews. I am that authentic and true to my profession."

Priya took a seat across from him, and just as Ram was about to hold his glass, he paused, adding, "I don't drink alone. Why don't you?" Priya agreed, pouring herself some wine, admitting, "Well, I was just trying to be formal, but you made it easy. I really needed a drink." With their glasses filled, they clinked them together.

As Ram took the first bite of the food, the flavors burst in his mouth like an explosion. He hadn't experienced such a delightful Ratatouille in ages. With eyes wide in surprise, he looked at Priya and exclaimed, "You did magic! Wow, I didn't expect this. Now I can surely tell that you must have grown up here, isn't it?"

Priya, placing her glass on the table, replied calmly, "No, I came from India 10 years back." 

Her words carried a hint of nostalgia, perhaps a trace of her journey from another land.

Ram promptly asked, "With your husband?" Priya's expression shifted immediately, but she managed to maintain her composure. Sensing he might have touched upon a sensitive topic, Ram restrained himself. Priya replied calmly, "With my fiancé. I'm from Delhi. He was my school friend, and our families decided we could make a good pair. So, I trusted him. He got a job here in a famous restaurant as a chef, and I wanted to become a sous chef. So, we thought of moving here together."

Ram nodded, understanding her situation. He then asked, "Where is he working now?" Priya's response was unexpected, "How am I supposed to know? We haven't met for the last 8 years." Ram's curiosity heightened, intrigued by Priya's story.

Ram said, "I shouldn't be asking you this," but Priya cut him off, her words flowing freely. "When I got pregnant with Niyasha, he said he couldn't marry me because he didn't have a stable job or savings to support a child. He asked me to abort, but I couldn't part with my child. So, he left me. Maybe because of him, I was able to stand on my own. His absence made me stronger, and I don't regret that."

Ram listened to her story with patience, his thoughts swirling. He couldn't help but notice the similarities between Priya's resilience and his own. They both refused to abandon their children for the sake of convenience. For a moment, a profound silence enveloped them, leaving their thoughts tangled in confusion.

Just to lighten the mood, Ram cleared his throat and spoke up, "Well, my respect for you just grew even deeper. I agree, every woman should stand on her own. Men can't be the sole support; they're just part of the journey. I know you must have faced countless challenges."

Priya nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it hasn't been easy, but every hurdle only made me stronger," she replied,her voice carrying a hint of pride.

Ram returned her smile, a newfound admiration gleaming in his eyes. Despite the hardships, Priya's determination remained unyielding, a testament to her resilience and strength.

utside, the bustling street seemed oblivious to the private moment unfolding within the cafe. Ram and Priya sat across from each other, their hearts pouring out words that had long been confined. It felt like an eternity since they had shared such intimate conversations.

Ram's eyes held a newfound admiration for Priya, while Priya found solace in Ram's understanding presence. In that moment, the cafe transformed into a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, unguarded and vulnerable.