Chapter 7: A Love Unexpected

Chapter 7: A Love Unexpected

I lay back on the bed, my body exhausted but my mind wide awake, swirling with thoughts I couldn't shake. The room around me felt suffocating, and the weight of my own questions pressed heavily on my chest.

"Why, Kiara? Why did you come back to India? Why did you have to work at the same company as me? Why did you have to come back into my life like this?" I muttered under my breath, frustration rising.

But the truth was, I knew her long before she became part of my present life. In our previous life, we hadn't been soul mates, or even strangers passing in the night. We were simply a couple, but it was in this life that the bond between us had grown deeper than either of us expected.

Six years ago, when I was in my second year of college, life was simple and carefree. The days were filled with lectures, friends, and the occasional coffee break. Everything felt just right, especially when the third-semester results came in, and I saw that I had passed every subject with flying colors. To celebrate, I decided to reward myself with something small but meaningful: a visit to a local coffee shop.

The moment I saw it, I was entranced. The coffee shop's name—Royal Feel—seemed to promise an experience that went beyond the ordinary. As I stepped inside, I was struck by how the place balanced vintage charm with modern touches. It had a warm, inviting atmosphere, and it made me feel like I was stepping into another world—a world where I could simply be myself and lose track of time.

I ordered my coffee, along with a small plate of sweets, and found a quiet seat by the window. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I waited for my order. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her—a waitress with black hair, moving with grace, setting down my coffee and sweets with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly.

"Here's your coffee and sweets, sir. Please enjoy," she said, her voice soft but confident.

I looked up, meeting her gaze, and for a split second, the world around me seemed to blur. It was a feeling I couldn't explain, but in that moment, I knew.

"Th-thank you," I stammered, my voice trembling slightly, but my heart racing as if it had recognized something my mind couldn't quite process.

I watched her walk away, my eyes following her every move. There was something about her, something that drew me in like a magnet. It was more than just physical attraction—it was as if something deep inside me knew her, even if I couldn't explain how.

The next day, I found myself back at Royal Feel, not just for the coffee but for the chance to see her again. And so, it began—I became a regular at the café, showing up every day after class, secretly hoping for another glimpse of her. But I didn't just come for the coffee; I came for her smile, the way she moved through the room with effortless grace.

One day, I was sitting at my usual spot, pretending to read a novel my college friend had recommended. I wanted to look cool, sipping coffee while reading, just like the characters in the movies. But as I flipped through the pages, trying to focus on the words, I heard a soft voice pull me out of my thoughts.

"Do you like this novel too?"

I looked up, startled, and found Kiara standing beside me, a curious smile on her lips.

"Yes, I like reading novels," I said, my heart racing. "One of my friends recommended it. I just bought it yesterday."

"Really? I tried looking for it at a nearby shop, but it was out of stock," she replied, her eyes lighting up with interest.

"Oh, yeah, it's really popular at my college, so everyone is buying it," I said, quickly fabricating a story. The truth was, I hadn't even finished the book yet—I was just trying to keep the conversation going.

She laughed softly. "Well, I guess its bad luck for me, then."

"If you want to read it, I can lend you mine," I said before I could stop myself. "I just finished it. You can take it and return it whenever you're done."

She looked at me, hesitant but intrigued. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it didn't even cost 200 rupees," I said, casually. But in my mind, I was thinking, If you want, I'd buy every book in the store for you. But I didn't say that out loud. A sudden thought struck me—what if she liked novels too? Maybe this was the perfect way for us to connect.

"Okay," she said, smiling. "I'll borrow it, then."

She held out her hand, and as I shook it, I felt a strange flutter in my chest.

"I'm Kiara," she said, her voice warm.

"Sai," I replied, unable to keep the smile from my face. And just like that, we became friends—or so I thought.

After that day, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I contacted my college friend immediately, asking for more book recommendations, and I visited the bookstore to pick up everything he suggested. As I walked back to my dorm, I realized I had become obsessed with the idea of Kiara reading those same books, of having something in common with her.

That night, I stayed up, reading the novel I had lent to her. I had to make sure I knew it inside and out in case she asked me anything. I finished it in one sitting, memorizing every page, just so I could impress her the next time we met.

Over the next few weeks, we started talking more, exchanging books and recommendations. Our conversations grew longer, and soon I was lending her more than just novels. I was lending her pieces of myself. We began sharing more than just stories about books—we started talking about our lives, our dreams, and the little things that made us who we were.

One evening, after a particularly long conversation, I found myself sitting across from her, my heart pounding. I knew I had to do something about these feelings. They had been growing for months, and I couldn't hide them any longer.

"Hey, Kiara?" I said, my voice shaky with nerves.

"Yeah?" she replied, looking at me with those curious eyes of hers.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "Um… Can I have your number?"

She smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Sure, but you'll have to wait until my shift is over. If I give it to you now, all the regulars will want it too."

"Of course, I'll wait," I said, my voice filled with eagerness.

I watched her work, counting the minutes as they ticked by. By the time she finished her shift, I had ordered four coffees and barely noticed the time slipping away. When she came out in her casual clothes, she looked even more beautiful than I could have imagined. I wanted to say something, but all I could do was stare, my heart racing.

"Do you want some coffee?" I asked, my voice a little too eager.

"You've already had five," she replied, laughing softly.

"Did I?" I said, surprised at myself. "Well, here's my number," she said, handing me a piece of paper with her digits written on it. "Give me a miss call, and I'll save yours too."

I couldn't believe it. She was giving me her number. I grinned from ear to ear.

"Thanks," I said, trying to sound cool. "I'll text you on WhatsApp."

"Okay," she replied, before glancing over at the girl standing nearby. "I have to go. I live in the dorm, and the warden's really strict. I like cake more than coffee, by the way."

As she walked away, I couldn't stop myself from smiling. Cake, huh? I like cake too.

That night, I lay in my dorm room, staring at the ceiling. What should I text her? I played out a million scenarios in my head, unsure of what to say. Finally, I typed, Good night. Sai.

Within ten minutes, I received a reply. Good night. Sai.

I stared at her message, heart fluttering, but I was too embarrassed to respond any further. At first, we only exchanged simple greetings, but as time went on, our messages became longer. I started asking her about her meals, her day, and eventually, our conversations deepened into something more.

We saw each other often—going out for coffee, watching movies with friends, and even visiting temples during festivals. After six months of getting closer, I finally gathered the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend. She was ecstatic, her eyes lighting up with joy, and I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

Maybe, just maybe, she had known all along how I felt about her.