A soft sob escaped her lips as she turned her back to the shop. Not knowing what to do, Aquila decided it was best to just act without thinking. He chased her She passed the showcase and disappeared behind her kitchen door. As she walked into the humble pantry, Mr. Aquila stayed a few meters behind her. It had a stainless steel sink and countertop. Everything looked old but was clean. I didn't feel any discomfort. Except maybe a very large oven in the back. It covered the back door and protruded into the room. Part of the package was torn. Atiya walked towards it. "What is it?" she asked, pointing to the gigantic device. Aquila frowned. Why did she ask him? "Do you think it's an oven?"
She nodded as she took out a tissue from the box on the counter. It was next to an open brown shipping crate with peanuts littering the floor. "Yes. So what are you doing here?"
Aquila leaned into the back corner. He didn't really know where she was going with all this. "Since this is a bakery, did you come here to bake bread?"
Atiya laughed, but it sounded more mocking than true. "This is a $20,000 furnace. It's a dream oven. I don't have $20,000 to pay for it." Now he was really confused. "So why did you buy it?"
She looked at him and then went to the counter where she found a white envelope. She picked it up and handed it to him. It was all so strange. He flipped the flap and pulled out a note card. "To Atiya ," he read aloud. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I love Aquila ," he said, looking at the card, taking out his name and walking towards the stove. "What the hell…" Then he realized. Debbie. Whoa, she got bold with her expense report. "So can you tell me why your oven appeared in my kitchen and I still don't know where it came from?" Atiya sat on a bar stool next to the counter where the computer sat. . She looked at him and wiped her nose again. "Is that one of your investment plans too?" I didn't ask for it. I can take care of myself," she squinted.
He blinked her eyes at her words. What Is your investment plan? Did she think he thought so? "I know you can take care of yourself," he stiffened. He didn't like the way she classified her company. "I have no investment plans. I asked my assistant, Debbie, to give me a gift to show my appreciation for everything you have done. I was thinking a spatula or a mixing bowl" – why didn't he come up with other kitchen utensils? – "Never in a million…". . Where did Debbie get the idea that she needed an oven?"
Atiya moaned as he pushed the crumbs with his fingers. "She told me the oven was broken when she brought the donuts a while ago. She must have thought it was a good idea. "
Aquila looked around the kitchen. "Yes. Debbie has an open mind, but sometimes I don't think so. Anyway, there was very little space in that kitchen, but with a huge oven, it was like a broom closet. 'I'll come pick it up tomorrow,' he smiled at her, and she snorted and nodded. "That's a good idea."
His stomach turned upside down when he saw that she was so upset. Is it all because of the oven? "That really upset you, didn't it?" He leaned over and gave her a smile. Anything to ease their pain. She stared at him and then shook her head. "So," she put her hand to her face, but "that's not it," she said, waving at the stove. A sense of relief from her overcame him. OK. He was not the cause of her pain. So what made her so upset? He pulled out the other chair and sat there. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, reaching out to her and putting his finger on her arm. Her back straightened as she slipped off his fingers. He dropped her hand. No, she was difficult to read. He thought they were approaching. Maybe he was wrong. She cleared her throat. "I, um.. She pointed to an open box on the counter. "I received her father's remains today," she whispered. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she closed her eyes. Aquila ' heart sank. He glanced at her box, then turned back to her. "Oh, Atiya , I'm so sorry," he said. Before he knew what he was doing, he pushed his body out of the chair, closing the distance between them. He put her arm around her and hugged her. He remembered receiving Rose 's ashes. He shut himself up in his room. His heart broke that day. She stiffened at first, but she didn't hold back for long. A few seconds later she returned his hug and buried her face in his chest. Her sobs became muffled as she screamed at his shoulder. He reached out and grabbed her head. He tried to ignore how it felt to hold her. But holding her in her arms made her heart beat faster. For a moment he wondered if she could feel it. Did it betray him? After a few minutes she pulled away. Her eyes were swollen. She reached out her hand and grabbed the handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at him. He shook his head. "Don't be like that. 'I know.' His emotions were stuck in his throat and his voice was more hoarse than usual. He knew the pain. Every day he lived with that pain. "I lost someone very close to me too," he said, reaching out and moving his hand. There was a pile of papers on her desk. She sniffed again and wiped her eyes. "Did you?" she asked. He nodded. "My twin sister died four years ago," he whispered. Worried he might start crying himself, he cleared his throat and forced a smile. She furrowed her brow as she lowered her hand to rest on his forearm. "I'm sorry," she said. She stroked his arm with her thumb. The feeling intoxicated him. Being here and allowing him to be vulnerable made him both excited and terrified. When she looked up at him, an expression crossed her face. As if she remembered something. She narrowed her eyes, dropped her hands, and took a step back. "Have you talked to your mother?" she asked, pushing aside her chair and taking a few steps back. She wrapped her blanket tightly around her body. He looked at her That was a strange question. "Yes. Almost every day. She likes to pay attention to me. Since Rose died, she has had many problems. She says it's because she wants to make sure I'm safe… . She goes too far sometimes. '' Without her hand, his arm felt cold. He folded his arms and wished to remove the feel of her skin. No matter how hard I rubbed, the feel remained. She stood there staring at him. It was as if she wanted to say something but didn't know how to form the words. Did he want to know? There was a burning sensation deep in my stomach. She complained that he wanted him to know how his heart was beating. He wanted to know everything about her. She sighed and shook her head, taking her cover off her shoulders and placing it on the chair in front of her. "Maybe we should leave," she said. I'll go upstairs and change." She walked to the store entrance. She turned around before she was out of sight. "Wait here," she said, and she gave him a small smile. He nodded. Of course he will wait. Here in this little kitchen, there was no place he would rather be than waiting for a drunken and bewildered woman who slowly swallowed all his thoughts. "to go."