Chapter 5
Surbhi
Iwoke up much later than I had intended to.
For a brief moment, I couldn't remember where I was. The unfamiliar ceiling, the soft cream-colored curtains, and the faint scent of fresh lilies placed near the window made me realize I was no longer in my parents' house.
I was in my new home.
The memories of the previous night returned almost immediately. My nightmare. Ranbir knocking on my door. The way he had quietly sat on the sofa without asking me uncomfortable questions, simply staying there until I had fallen asleep.
A wave of guilt settled over me.
Because of me, he had probably lost most of his sleep.
I quickly got out of bed, freshened up, and stepped out of my room. The guest room door was already open, and when I looked inside, the bed had been neatly made.
He had already left.
I wasn't sure why, but that disappointed me a little. I had wanted to thank him properly for last night.
Instead, I quietly walked toward the kitchen, hoping I could at least prepare breakfast before he returned from wherever he had gone.
The kitchen was much larger than any I had ever worked in. Every appliance was modern, every shelf perfectly organized, and despite the early hour, two members of the household staff were already busy preparing breakfast.
The moment they noticed me, both of them smiled politely.
"Good morning, ma'am."
I smiled back, still feeling awkward being addressed that way.
"Good morning."
One of them immediately stepped forward.
"What would you like for breakfast? We can prepare anything you'd prefer."
"Oh... no," I replied quickly. "You don't have to make anything for me."
They exchanged confused glances.
"Are you sure, ma'am?"
I nodded.
"Actually... may I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Do we have almond flour? Fresh strawberries, cream cheese, butter... and vanilla extract?"
The older woman smiled.
"We do."
"And sliced almonds?"
"Yes."
I hesitated before asking my final question.
"Would it be alright if I used the kitchen for a while?"
Instead of looking annoyed, both of them smiled warmly.
"This is your kitchen now, ma'am. You never have to ask."
The simple sentence caught me off guard.
Your kitchen.
No one had ever said something like that to me before.
At home, the kitchen had belonged to my mother. I could help whenever she asked, but it was never really my space.
Here, these people were telling me it belonged to me.
It felt strange.
But... nice.
I tied my hair into a loose ponytail, washed my hands, and began gathering the ingredients.
The moment I started measuring flour and whisking butter with sugar, something inside me slowly began to settle.
Baking had always been my escape.
Whenever life became too overwhelming, I found comfort in recipes. There was something incredibly calming about measuring ingredients, folding batter gently, decorating cakes, and watching everything come together with patience and care.
It was one of the few things that had always made me happy.
My parents never understood it.
To them, baking was just a hobby.
A pastime.
They often told me that respectable girls didn't dream of making desserts for a living. According to them, it wasn't the kind of work that suited someone from our family.
So I never argued.
I simply baked whenever I had the chance, quietly keeping my dreams to myself.
An hour later, the sweet aroma of freshly baked cake filled the kitchen.
I carefully spread a layer of strawberry cream over the sponge before decorating it with fresh strawberries and lightly toasted almond flakes.
Looking at the finished cake, I couldn't help smiling.
For the first time since the wedding, I felt like myself again.
Just a little.
"I hope he likes it," I whispered without realizing I had spoken aloud.
One of the staff members smiled.
"I'm sure sir will."
Just then, I heard the front door open.
A few moments later, Ranbir walked into the dining area, dressed in a crisp blue shirt with his laptop bag resting over one shoulder.
He looked slightly surprised to find me standing there.
"Good morning," he said with a gentle smile.
"Good morning."
He studied me for a moment before asking, "How are you feeling today?"
There was genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm fine," I answered, and this time I meant it.
"I'm glad."
I looked toward the cake before gathering enough courage to speak.
"I... made this."
His eyes shifted to the cake.
"You baked it?"
I nodded.
"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made a strawberry almond cake."
His expression softened into a smile.
"It looks amazing."
I carefully cut a slice and placed it on a plate before sliding it toward him.
"I hope it tastes alright."
He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully for a few seconds.
Then he looked back at me.
"This is genuinely one of the best cakes I've ever had."
I blinked.
"Really?"
"I'm not saying that just to be polite."
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
It was probably the first genuine laugh I had shared with him.
"I've always loved baking," I admitted quietly.
"It's my favorite thing to do."
"How long have you been baking?"
"Since I was in school."
He looked genuinely impressed.
"So this isn't just a hobby."
I hesitated before answering.
"I always wanted it to become more than that."
"But?"
I lowered my eyes.
"My parents believed baking should remain just an activity. They thought that if I tried to make a career out of it, people would think less of our family."
Ranbir remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "Vihaan's younger sister, Yasha, owns a café."
I looked up immediately.
"She does?"
He nodded.
"She's always experimenting with new desserts and seasonal menus. If you're interested, I can introduce you to her. You both might enjoy exchanging ideas, and who knows, maybe you'll even get an opportunity to work with her."
For a few seconds, I simply stared at him.
I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.
"You mean..."
"You can work if you want to."
The words felt almost unreal.
"You... don't have a problem with it?"
He looked genuinely confused.
"Why would I?"
I didn't know how to answer.
Because all my life I had been taught that married women should focus only on their homes.
Because every dream I had ever shared had been dismissed before it had the chance to grow.
Because I had already convinced myself that marriage meant quietly letting go of the parts of myself that made me happy.
Yet here he was, speaking as though my dreams mattered just as much as anything else.
I felt my eyes sting unexpectedly.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He smiled.
"You don't have to thank me for that."
"But I want to."
He looked at me with the same calm kindness he had shown ever since the wedding, never asking for anything in return, never expecting gratitude for treating me with basic respect.
As I watched him take another bite of the cake I had baked, I realized that perhaps this marriage wasn't going to take everything away from me.
Perhaps, without even realizing it, Ranbir had just given me something I had stopped hoping for long ago.
A chance to dream again.
I must have checked the address on my phone at least five times before stepping out of the cab.
The café stood on a quiet corner of one of the busiest streets in the city, its large glass windows letting in the warm afternoon sunlight.
Hanging baskets overflowing with flowers framed the entrance, while a simple wooden sign bearing the café's name gave the place a welcoming charm.
Even from outside, I could see people chatting over coffee, laptops open on their tables, and the display counter filled with beautifully decorated pastries.
For a moment, I wondered if I should simply go back home.
What if I wasn't good enough?
What if Ranbir had spoken highly of me, and I failed to meet their expectations?
The thought made me hesitate at the entrance, but after taking a deep breath, I pushed open the glass door.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, melted chocolate, and warm bread immediately surrounded me. It was comforting in a way I couldn't explain.
A young woman standing behind the counter looked up from her tablet and smiled the moment she saw me.
"You must be Surbhi."
I blinked in surprise.
"Yes."
She walked around the counter and extended her hand.
"I'm Yasha."
I shook her hand, feeling slightly nervous.
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too," she replied warmly. "Ranbir bhai called me this morning and said you might stop by."
I smiled awkwardly.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Not at all. In fact, I've been waiting for you."
She gestured toward one of the empty tables near the window.
"Come on. Let's sit."
The nervousness hadn't left me even as I took my seat.
Yasha, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed. She was friendly, cheerful, and had an easy confidence that instantly made people comfortable.
"I've heard you love baking," she began.
"I do."
"And Ranbir bhai says you're really good."
I looked down almost immediately.
"I don't know if I'd say that."
She laughed.
"That's exactly what someone who's actually talented would say."
I couldn't help smiling.
"I've mostly baked for my family," I admitted. "I've never worked professionally."
"That doesn't bother me."
I looked at her in surprise.
"It doesn't?"
She shook her head.
"Honestly, I've been looking for someone who genuinely enjoys baking instead of treating it like just another job. Skills can always be polished, but passion is difficult to teach."
I hesitated before speaking.
"Wouldn't it be better if you took an interview first?"
Yasha laughed again.
"An interview?"
I nodded.
"Or maybe a trial. I mean... you've never seen me work."
She folded her arms dramatically.
"Surbhi, if Ranbir bhai says you can bake, then I'm willing to believe him."
I frowned slightly.
"But he has only tasted one cake."
She grinned.
"And in the twenty-six years I've known him, I've never seen him exaggerate anything."
That made me laugh softly.
She leaned back in her chair.
"Besides, you're forgetting something."
"What?"
"I've known Ranbir bhai my entire life. He doesn't recommend people unless he's absolutely sure about them."
Hearing that warmed my heart more than I expected.
I had barely known him for a few weeks, yet he had trusted me enough to recommend me without hesitation.
Yasha smiled mischievously.
"I still can't believe one member of that notorious group finally got married."
I looked at her curiously.
"Notorious?"
"Oh, absolutely."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
"My brother Vihaan, Ranbir bhai, Ruhaan bhai, and Aarush practically grew up together. They were impossible as teenagers."
I couldn’t help but notice how she didn’t add bhai next to Aarush’s name, and a little blush came on her face when he took his name.
"Were they?"
"They somehow managed to stay at the top of their classes while constantly getting into harmless trouble. Cricket matches that broke windows, late-night road trips, pulling pranks on each other... I grew up watching them create chaos wherever they went."
I laughed.
"It doesn't sound like Ranbir."
"I know," she replied. "He's the calm one now, but don't let that fool you. He was just as bad as the others."
For some reason, imagining the composed man I had married as a mischievous teenager made me smile.
Yasha noticed.
"There it is."
I looked at her.
"What?"
"That smile."
I immediately became self-conscious.
"You should smile more often. It suits you."
Before I could respond, she stood up.
"So, are you ready to show me what you've got?"
"I actually brought something."
"You did?"
I opened the cake box I had carefully carried with me throughout the journey.
"I baked this this morning."
Her eyes widened.
"A walnut marble cake?"
I nodded.
"I wasn't sure if you'd like it."
Yasha cut herself a small slice without waiting another second.
The moment she took the first bite, her expression changed completely.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment before looking at me.
"Oh my God."
My heart skipped.
"Is it... alright?"
"Alright?" she repeated dramatically. "This is incredible."
I stared at her uncertainly.
"I'm serious."
She took another bite.
"The texture is perfect. It's soft without being too airy, the chocolate isn't overpowering, and the walnuts give it exactly the right amount of crunch."
I couldn't stop smiling.
No one had ever praised my baking like that before.
Yasha placed the plate down and looked at me with complete certainty.
"When can you start?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"I want you here."
I wasn't sure how to respond.
"You mean..."
"I mean exactly what I said. Come here every day. We'll figure out your timings based on what works for you, and we'll discuss your salary properly."
The word salary almost felt unfamiliar.
Someone wanted to pay me for doing something I genuinely loved.
"I don't know what to say."
"You could start by saying yes."
A laugh escaped me.
"Yes."
"Perfect."
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand gently.
"I have a feeling we're going to work really well together."
As I left the café an hour later, I found myself smiling the entire way back to the cab.
This was first time someone had looked at my passion and seen potential instead of dismissing it as a meaningless hobby.
And none of it would have happened if Ranbir hadn't believed in me enough to open that door.
Looking out of the cab window, I quietly whispered the words I hadn't been able to say to him properly that morning.
"Thank you, Ranbir."
For the first time since our marriage, I felt as though my future wasn't something I had simply surrendered to.
Perhaps it was something I could still shape with my own hands.