The kitchen was unusually quiet.
Only the faint sound of the clock ticking filled the air as Maya carefully stirred the soup. The aroma should have made her smile — but today, even her favorite scent of rosemary felt heavy.
Adrian stood near the counter, pretending to check his phone. His reflection in the steel fridge showed eyes that had not slept all night.
He wanted to say, "Are you okay?"
But his pride whispered, "Stay silent."
Finally, Maya broke the stillness.
"Mr. Adrian… taste this."
Her tone was formal — too formal for two people who once shared midnight laughter and coffee secrets.
He stepped closer. Their fingers brushed when she handed him the spoon.
A spark — brief but undeniable.
He tasted it, his eyes closing forsecond.
"It's perfect," he said softly.
But his voice trembled — because he wasn't talking about the soup.
Maya looked away quickly.
She couldn't let him see the tears forming.
Her heart whispered, "Why does your voice still make me weak?"
Just then, the kitchen door opened, and Lila — Adrian's younger sister — peeked in with a bright smile.
"Chef Maya! Oh my God, your kitchen smells like heaven! Can I watch?"
Maya blinked, a little startled.
Adrian turned sharply. "Lila, tum yahan?"
She shrugged innocently. "Vacation. Mom said you'd probably starve without me."
Maya laughed — a real, soft laugh that warmed the whole room.
Adrian froze for a moment.
He hadn't heard her laugh like that in months.
As Lila and Maya chatted excitedly about pastries, Adrian quietly leaned against the wall, watching.
Somewhere deep inside, he felt hope — fragile, like a flame in the wind.
And far away, in another city, Max, Adrian's old friend, opened an emailtitled:
"Invitation: Culinary Collaboration — Adrian Blackwell Group."
He smiled faintly, unaware that destiny was pulling him into this story too.