Chapter 19
Sana
Aditya: Hey, I’ve got a meeting this morning, but I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Can we meet for lunch? There’s something I need to tell you, and I want to do it in person.
I stare at the message, unease curling in my stomach. What could Aditya possibly want to tell me that couldn’t be said over the phone? I’m about to type back, saying lunch sounds good, when the sound of someone sharply clearing their throat makes me look up from my screen.
I find a woman standing across from my counter. She’s in her mid-fifties but carries herself with the effortless poise and elegance that only comes from old money. I also notice the way her eyes sweep over me, narrowing in thinly veiled contempt, as if the very sight of me offends her.
“So, you’re Sana,” she states with disdain.
My eyebrows knit together at her tone, but I quickly school my features into a polite smile. There’s no need to stoop to her level.
“Yes, that’s me,” I answer, keeping my voice steady. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“By leaving my son,” she spits out, and my eyes widen in shock.
It takes me a second to process her words before it hits me—she’s not just any customer. She’s Aditya’s mother. But before I can say anything, she folds her arms and lifts her chin, her gaze hard.
“Yes, I’m Aditya’s mother,” she confirms, clearly reading the realisation on my face. Her lips curl into a scornful sneer. “The one whose son you’ve been stringing along for money.”
Her words land like a slap, cold and cruel. Indignation sparks in my chest, but I swallow it down, forcing myself to stay calm, even as her accusation slices through me like a knife.
“Aunty…” I start, but she cuts me off, her voice laced with venom.
“I’m not your aunty. Call me Mrs. Thakur—a title I know you’re dreaming of but will never become.”
I feel the heat rise to my cheeks, a mix of anger and humiliation, but I stand my ground.
“Mrs. Thakur, I understand you’re upset, but there’s no need to do this here.
And I’m sure there’s some misunderstanding.
Can we please take this somewhere private?
” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my heart is pounding.
I glance around, noticing the curious eyes of customers now fixed on us, their conversations fading into murmurs as they watch us. The last thing I need is to make a spectacle out of this.
From the corner of my eye, I see Mili across the room, her posture tense as she starts to move toward us. I can feel her protective instincts kicking in, but I quickly shake my head, giving her a reassuring look that I’ve got this.
“Why? Feeling ashamed that the truth is out?” Her lips twist into a bitter smile. “And I haven’t said anything wrong,” she snaps, loud enough for the onlookers to catch every word. “I want everyone to know you are nothing but a gold-digger who’s been playing with my son’s heart.”
A knot tightens in my stomach, but I force myself to stay composed. If she wants a scene, I won’t give her one. Not here. Not like this.
I take a deep breath, keeping my expression neutral even as my insides twist. “Mrs. Thakur, I’m not playing with anyone’s heart. I care about Aditya…”
She cuts me off with a sharp laugh. “Care? Don’t make me laugh.
Girls like you only care about one thing—money.
I’ve seen your type before, sinking your claws into rich men,” she states defiantly, a satisfied gleam in her eyes as she notices the growing audience.
“But I won’t let you ruin my son’s life. ”
I swallow the lump in my throat, refusing to let her disrespect me in my own workplace, no matter what opinion she has formed of me.
“I’m not interested in Aditya’s bank balance.
And just so you know, money holds no value for me when weighed against self-respect and dignity.
I’ve built everything I have through hard work, and I won’t let anyone belittle that, no matter how wealthy or influential they may be.
So I’m requesting you if we could end this here. ”
“Don’t you dare play that innocent act of yours.
You’ve blinded my son with whatever game you’re playing, but I’m not going to fall for it,” she hisses.
“And I’m not leaving until you walk away from my son.
It’s none of your business, but I still want you to know that I’ve found the perfect match for him—someone from our world, someone with real standards.
But he’s throwing it all away because of you.
I hope you understand now how you’re ruining his life and how important it is for me to get you out of it. ”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. The truth is glaringly obvious now—no matter what I say, no matter how genuine my feelings are, I’ll never be good enough in her eyes for her son. And I’m almost relieved that I got this reality check before I confessed my feelings to Aditya.
I look at her, really look at her. Beneath the anger, I see fear—a desperate fear of losing her son. But that doesn’t excuse her cruelty.
I square my shoulders. “If staying away from your son is what you want, then you’ll get it. But there is something I want in return.”
Her lips tighten. “I knew you would ask your price,” she says coldly. “So tell me, what will it take for you to stay away from my son?”
I lift my chin, meeting her icy gaze head-on. “I want you to leave and never come back here again. I won’t tolerate you walking into my café again and insulting me. You’ve said what you needed to say. Now, please leave.”
She shoots me one last contemptuous look before spinning on her heel, her expensive stilettos clicking sharply against the floor.
Once she’s out of sight, I exhale slowly, feeling everyone’s gaze still fixed on me, their stares burning into my chest. My composure begins to crack, emotions too raw to contain.
Unable to stand under their scrutiny any longer, I turn on my heel and make my way to my office, my steps quick and unsteady.
Once inside, I slam the door behind me as I walk up to my desk.
I place my hands on the edge of my desk as I bow my head, struggling to control my breathing, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill.
Just as I think I’m pulling myself together, I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. Thinking it’s Mili, I turn around, only to find myself face-to-face with Jai, his concerned eyes fixed on me.
He hesitates for a moment before speaking, “I hope it’s not the wrong time.”
I manage a weak smile, shaking my head. “No, it’s fine.”
He offers me a small smile in return. “I was just holding up to the offer you made... of trying your coffee,” he says lightly, trying to ease the tension. “And I also wanted to give you the good news that your loan has been processed, and the amount has been transferred to your account.”
A spark of happiness flickers through me, momentarily dulling the ache in my chest. “That’s... that’s great news,” I say, a faint smile breaking through. But it quickly fades as the weight of everything else crashes back down.
Jai’s eyes soften, his expression earnest.
“Can we sit?” he asks, nodding toward the couch in the corner.
I nod silently, moving to the couch and sinking into it. He sits beside me, maintaining just enough distance to give me space.
After a moment, he speaks, his voice low and considerate.
“I know it’s not my place to ask what went wrong, and I won’t ask.
.. because I know you won’t be comfortable telling me.
” He pauses, his gaze steady and sincere.
“But... can you trust me enough to be a friend? To just stay here with you... until you’re okay? ”
I nod as I look at him, gratitude shining through my tear-filled eyes, as his words loosen the tightness in my chest just a little.
“Thank you... Jai,” I whisper, my voice barely holding together.
He simply nods, leaning back on the couch, his eyes glancing around the room before settling back on me. He studies my face for a moment, concern flickering in his gaze. Then, his lips curve into a playful smirk.
“You know,” he begins, his voice light, “for a place that serves some of the best coffee in town, the owner sure looks like she could use a cup herself.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “Are you saying I look terrible?”
He raises his hands in mock defence. “Hey, I didn’t say that. Just... exhausted. And maybe a bit moody.”
I let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising me. “That really helped. Thank you. And I guess I could use a cup.”
Jai’s face lights up with triumph. “Now we’re talking. How about I make you coffee?”
I arch an eyebrow. “You?”
He shrugs. “Maybe my coffee won’t be as good as yours, but I sure as hell can try.”
“I won’t say no.”
“One cup of coffee coming right up,” he says as he rises to his feet and walks out of the room.
Once I’m alone, the earlier scene replays in my mind, every hurtful word echoing painfully in my ears. Aditya’s mom’s accusations, the contempt in her eyes—it all rushes back. I close my eyes, my chest tightening as I struggle to breathe through the hurt.
My phone vibrates, pulling me from the spiral.
I glance at it to see Aditya’s name flashing on the screen.
My heart clenches as I hit ‘reject,’ but it buzzes again and again.
Each time, I keep pressing decline. I can’t talk to him.
Not right now. I turn off my phone and toss it onto the couch beside me.
Leaning back, I press my palms to my face, trying to pull myself together.
The next moment, the door opens, and I straighten up. I look up to see Jai walk back in, holding two cups of coffee. He silently hands me one of the cups before sitting beside me.
Thankful for the distraction, I take a small sip, letting the warmth of the coffee soothe me, if only for a moment.
“Well?” Jai asks, his eyes waiting for my verdict.
I glance over at him, my lips curling slightly. “I must say this is incredible. Probably the best coffee I’ve ever had.”
“Well, thank you,” he beams back before his expression turns sincere. “Listen, I know this might sound a bit cheesy, but... if you ever need someone to talk to, as a friend... I’m here. No questions, no judgments. Just... here.”
I look at him, and just then, Aditya’s face flashes through my mind. I think of the way I trusted him. The way it fell apart. The pain is still too raw, too real. But something about Jai feels different—uncomplicated, genuine. He truly is a friend.
A lump rises in my throat, but I manage a small smile. “Thank you, Jai... I could really take you up on your offer of friendship.”
Jai’s face lights up at my reply, and soon we fall into a more casual conversation. Jai’s light humour and easy-going nature chip away the heaviness weighing on my heart. For a moment, I almost forget the pain... almost.
But even as the conversation flows, I make a decision. Whatever this was with Aditya—whatever hopes I had—it’s over before it even truly began.
That chapter is closed. Finished. Done.