A few minutes later, I heard a knock and Chak's voice: "Niran, cook lunch,"
he said, then walked away.
I sighed, wiped away my tears, and headed to the kitchen. I thought Chak was in his office, but when I entered, I was slightly surprised. He was sitting at the kitchen counter, as if he was waiting for me. His elbows were on the counter, fingers laced, his gaze fixed on something invisible in the air or maybe on me the moment I walked in.
Without a word, I walked to the stove and asked, "What would you like for lunch?"
"Whatever you cook," he replied.
"Are you going to stay here the whole time and watch me cook?" I asked quietly.
"Yes," he answered shortly.
I looked away and thought to myself, You didn't come home yesterday, and today you act like everything's fine.
The silence between us wasn't comfortable. It was tight, like something heavy pressing down on both of us. Still, I chopped vegetables, trying to keep my hands steady while my heart felt anything but. I was angry, confused, and yet… relieved that he was here. But I didn't want him to know that.
As I cooked, I noticed him watching me. Every small movement. The way I stirred the pan, the way I wiped my hands on the towel. His eyes never left me. There was no more rice in the lower drawer, so I opened the upper cabinet. I saw the rice on the third shelf and stretched on my toes to reach it. That's when I felt Chak come behind me. His hand gently rested on my waist. His touch warmed me, even though I felt cold inside. With his left hand, he reached up and took down the rice.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. We stood in silence for a few minutes. The quiet said more than words ever could. For a brief moment, I let myself breathe near him, not as his assistant, not as someone he'd left behind the night before, but just… as myself. As someone who still loved him.
Chak placed the rice on the counter and returned to his seat. I straightened up, looked at him, and said, "Thank you."
When I finished cooking, I set the table. Chak sat down, while I took the seat at the counter where he had been before. I started eating.
"Niran, come eat here," he said.
"I'm not coming," I replied and continued eating.
He stood up and came to sit beside me.
"If you won't come to me, then I'll come to you," he said.
I rolled my eyes, but something inside me softened.
We ate in silence. After lunch, I put the dishes into the dishwasher. When I finished, I noticed Chak was still sitting there, watching me.
"Let's go to work," he said. He stood, and I followed him out.
As we drove to the company, he asked, "What can I do to bring back the old Niran?"
"You promised me you'd come home yesterday. You didn't. I hate broken promises, Chak. When someone gives me their word, I expect them to keep it," I said with a bitter tone.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I know," he whispered. "I messed up."
When we arrived in the garage, Chak silently took my hand and kissed it gently. I looked at him in surprise.
"Let this be my first apology for yesterday," he said.
I stepped out of the car. In the elevator, I could still feel his kiss on my skin. I smiled faintly to myself.
When I reached my office, I got to work. I was overwhelmed with tasks. Chak called me to his office every fifteen minutes. It seemed like he enjoyed it. First, I brought him coffee, then he changed his mind and wanted green tea, then water. Later, he asked for the notes I had written yesterday he made me read them to him because he couldn't read my handwriting.
While I read, I got the feeling he wanted me close, but didn't know how to say it.
When I finished, he said, "Go get me some fruit."
"It's not even four yet," I replied.
"That doesn't matter," he cut me off.
In the kitchen, while cutting fruit, I remembered how I'd carved a heart out of watermelon for him yesterday. I took a deep breath, trying to forget it. But I couldn't.
With the tray in my hands, I went to his office, placed it in front of him, and turned to leave. Just before I stepped out, I heard his voice. He wanted to say something… but stopped himself.
A little after five, he came out of his office. Once he left, I went into his office. On his desk, I saw a piece of candy and a note that said sorry .
I picked up the note, looked at it closely, and smiled softly. Then I took the candy and slipped it into my pocket.
After tidying up his office and washing the dishes, I grabbed my things and headed toward his car. Chak was waiting for me inside.
While we were driving home, I said, "Thank you for the candy." Chak just smiled.
When we got home, I didn't say anything. I took off my shoes, walked past the living room, and went straight to my room. I didn't even look back to see if Chak was following me. I closed the door behind me, not forcefully, just firmly enough to mark the distance I still felt between us.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and stared at the floor. My thoughts were a mess anger, hope, confusion, and that quiet longing I hated admitting to myself. A few seconds passed before the door suddenly opened.
Chak entered without knocking.
I looked up, startled. "You don't knock now?"
He didn't answer that. Instead, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"I'll tell you why I didn't come home yesterday," he said, his voice low but steady.
I stayed quiet, my hands gripping the blanket beside me.
I heard him sigh softly before he sat down beside me.
Please listen to me until I finish, then you can yell at me if you want" he began,
"When I was driving to dinner..."