The first time Arin saw her laugh, it caught him off guard.
It was the next day, and he had followed her from the library to a small café down the street. She was sitting at a corner table, her laptop open, fingers poised over the keyboard. A steaming cup of coffee rested beside her, untouched. Her expression was focused, yet there was something softer about her than the previous evening.
Then the door to the café opened, and a teenage girl rushed in. Shanaya. Her daughter.
“Mom, you forgot your phone again,” Shanaya said, exasperation clear in her voice.
Astha looked up, blinking in surprise before laughing. “I swear, my brain works in overdrive except for basic survival skills.”
Shanaya rolled her eyes, plopping into the seat across from her mother. “You’d be lost without me.”
“I absolutely would,” Astha said, taking her phone from Shanaya’s hands. “You, my dear, are my last tether to functioning adulthood.”
Shanaya smiled. “I should start charging for my services.”
Astha gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart. “Highway robbery! My own child turning against me.”
Shanaya laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll settle for you buying me pizza later.”
“Deal,” Astha said, grinning.
Arin had never seen anything like it—the ease between them, the way Astha’s laughter seemed to light up the air around her. It was different from the quiet, contemplative woman he had observed in the library. This was a version of her he had not expected.
She wasn’t just a writer lost in her words. She was a mother, a woman full of warmth, humor, and love.
Something inside him tightened.
He wanted to know more.
He wanted to know her.
To be continued in the next post…
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