Chapter 6 #2
“Cut the crap and tell me why are you really here?” she demands, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re clearly not here for coffee.”
I pause for a heartbeat. Then, before I even realise what I’m doing, the words slip out of my mouth. “Can you marry me?”
She stares at me, completely dumbfounded.
Honestly, the question shocks even me. And for a brief moment, I wonder if I’ve lost my mind.
But strangely enough, I don’t take my words back.
Instead, out of nowhere, I feel this strange certainty—like a sixth sense telling me that this just feels right.
And for the first time, I want to follow what my heart says, and not my business mind.
So, I choose to stand by them, despite the absurdity of it all.
“WHAT?” she finally asks, breaking the silence.
I take a deep breath and say it again, more firmly this time. “You heard me. Marry me.”
She blinks, then bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. “I knew it! I knew you were a psycho the moment I first saw you!”
I frown, clearly offended. “I’m not a psycho. I’m serious.”
“Serious? Oh, sure,” she repeats, still laughing as she grabs her phone from the counter. “Let me help you out. I’ll Google the contact details of some excellent psychiatrists who might be able to help you.”
“Sana, I’m not joking,” I say, taking her phone from her hand and setting it down on the counter. “Look, I’m rich and successful. I can give you everything you could ever want—comfort, security, money, a life that’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. All you have to do is say yes.”
Now those dark eyes narrow at me. “Wow. You really thought that would work. Let me guess—you’re used to women falling at your feet the moment you flash your bank balance?”
“I mean… it’s not exactly a bad offer,” I say, my voice tinged with a mix of confidence and frustration. To be honest, any girl in her place would be thrilled. But for some reason, I get this feeling that I’m completely messing things up with her.
“Oh, you’re adorable,” she mocks. “Here’s the thing, Mr. Richie Rich. I don’t need your money, and I sure as hell don’t need you. So if your little stunt of insulting me is over, please, do us both a favour and get out of here.”
“That’s not what I meant. I—” I begin, but she raises her hand, cutting me off mid-sentence.
“Sure it is,” she snaps, her eyes blazing. “We’re strangers, Aditya, and you’re proposing? Worst of all, you’re throwing your money in my face like I’m some sellout who’ll fall at your feet.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re just… a jerk.”
I exhale sharply, raking a hand through my hair. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Sana. You’re right. We don’t know each other well, but sometimes… you meet someone and you just know. God, I don’t want to mess this up. I’m just trying to figure this out—”
Before I can find the right words to justify my proposal, she again cuts me off again.
“And by proposing, you think you’ll figure it out?”
“Sana, I know how this looks, but I’m serious. I mean every word of it.”
Her expression hardens as she meets my gaze.
“Serious or not, you’ve got the wrong girl, Aditya.
And I’m definitely not marrying you just so you can figure out your messed-up head.
You’re an adult. Sort out whatever’s going on in there instead of barging in here, throwing proposals around like they’re casual greetings.
And get this through your thick skull—your wallet might impress some girls, but it doesn’t do a damn thing for me. ”
“Sana, just… think about it. Just once.” I don’t even know why I’m so desperate, but I try again.
“Aditya, you need to leave. Whatever this is, whatever ridiculous game you’re playing, it ends now.”
I slam my hands on the counter, my voice firm. “I’m not playing games, Sana. Why can’t you get that?”
She scoffs, her glare unwavering. “You really expect me to believe this is some grand, heartfelt proposal? Please, spare me. Newsflash—you don’t know me.
We’re nothing but strangers. You walked in here twice, insulted my café, threw around that attitude, and now you think tossing out a marriage proposal will flatter me and win me over?
Listen, Mr. Aditya, my answer is no. Now kindly leave. ”
I can tell now isn’t the time to push her. No matter what I say, she’ll fight me on it. With a sigh, I rise to my feet. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, trust me. It is.”
“We’ll see about that,” I say and turn to leave.
But as I reach the door, I hear her say, “Don’t forget to see a good doctor on your way. It will surely help you think straight!”
I don’t reply, nor do I turn back to look at her.
Instead, I push open the door, step outside, and slide into my car.
A small, satisfied smile creeps onto my face, despite the awkwardness of it all.
It’s funny how, in just a few hours, everything went from arguing with Mom about marriage to me proposing to Sana.
But it’s not something I want to overthink.
Right now, I’m only focused on one thing—Sana can push me away all she wants, but I know she’s exactly what I want.
She’s gorgeous, sharp, confident, and doesn’t take any shit—the kind of woman who stands beside you, not behind you.
The kind you don’t find twice, and damn sure the kind I’d fight for and keep close.
I start the engine, a plan already forming in my mind. A plan that will have her saying yes in the end.