Chereads / When Fate Plays Cupid / Chapter 3 - Stark of Night

Chapter 3 - Stark of Night

"Okay, enough of this corporate schmoozing," Amartya suddenly stood, stretching his arms over his head with a lazy smile. "I'm starving, and if I have one more overpriced canapé in this place, I might lose it."

I grinned. "Didn't take you for the food truck type."

He raised an eyebrow, giving me that lazy, half-amused look. "Oh, I'm full of surprises, Maya."

"Uh-huh, sure." I rolled my eyes, playing along. "What do you have in mind?"

"There's a spot just a couple blocks away. Best late-night biryani in the city, and I won't hear any arguments." He shot me a smirk, already heading toward the exit, not even waiting for my response.

"Oh, wow, bossy," I muttered under my breath, following him outside. The cool air hit me the second we stepped out, and I immediately felt lighter, like we were shedding the whole corporate vibe with each step we took away from that lounge.

We walked in comfortable silence for a bit, the sounds of the city buzzing around us. It wasn't long before the mouth-watering smell of spices hit us, and we rounded the corner to find a food truck with a line of people spilling out onto the sidewalk.

"Looks like everyone's got the same idea," I said, eyeing the crowd.

Amartya shrugged. "Good food waits for no one."

We stood in line, the chatter and city sounds filling the space around us. It wasn't awkward, though. Somehow, with him, silence felt easy. Like we didn't have to force conversation every second.

"You ever sneak away like this?" I asked, leaning against a streetlamp.

"What? From fancy parties?" he asked with a grin. "Nah. I usually embrace the chaos. But tonight…" His voice trailed off, and for a second, he seemed to hesitate, like there was something he wasn't saying. "Just needed a break from it all."

"Yeah?" I nudged him lightly with my elbow, trying to coax more out of him. "Come on, what's going on? You can't drop a vague line like that and not elaborate."

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Honestly? It's been one hell of a week. Too much thinking, not enough doing. Just needed to clear my head, you know?"

I nodded. I did know. In my line of work, overthinking was basically a hazard. "Yeah, I get it. Sometimes you just need to hit pause."

"Exactly," he said, glancing over at me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Tonight was supposed to be that. But..."

"But?" I prompted.

"Let's just say the whole 'have fun' thing is harder when you're in the middle of your own personal chaos."

There it was again—the hint of something deeper, something more serious lurking beneath his usual chill demeanor. I wanted to ask more, pry just a little, but before I could, we reached the front of the line.

Amartya stepped up and ordered for both of us, turning back with a grin. "Trust me, you'll love it."

"I trust you," I said, maybe a little too quickly. His smile faltered for a second before he handed me a plate of steaming biryani, and we found a spot on the curb to sit and eat.

"So…" I started, digging into my food. "What's this personal chaos you're dealing with? Or is that off-limits?"

He chuckled, though it lacked its usual lightness. "Let's just say relationships are a mess."

I snorted. "Preaching to the choir. I feel like they're all a mess."

"Touché," he said, taking a bite of his food. "But yeah, I thought I had it figured out, you know? And then suddenly… I didn't."

There was a moment of silence, and for the first time, I could see through the cracks of his usual confident exterior. He wasn't just the carefree, fun-loving guy everyone saw. There was something heavier weighing on him, and for whatever reason, he was letting me see a little of that.

I wanted to say something, offer some kind of advice or comfort, but I couldn't come up with the right words. So instead, I just sat there with him, sharing the silence and the biryani, hoping that was enough.

After a few minutes, he let out a long breath and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Alright, enough heavy shit. Let's talk about something else. Tell me about you, Maya. What do you do when you're not running your fashion empire?"

"Fashion empire?" I laughed, shaking my head. "More like barely keeping up with the chaos."

"Same difference." He grinned. "But seriously, what do you do for fun?"

I leaned back on my hands, looking up at the sky. "Honestly? When I'm not working, I just like to relax. Go to the gym, hang out with friends, catch up on sleep. You know, all the exciting things."

He raised an eyebrow. "Gym and sleep? Wow, you're a wild one."

"Hey, I didn't say I was boring," I shot back. "Just... selective about my energy."

He laughed, the sound lighter than before, and I couldn't help but smile. For a moment, it felt easy. Like we weren't two people who had barely spent time together before tonight. Like maybe, just maybe, we were starting to see each other a little differently.

As the night wore on and the food truck started to wind down, I realized something: for the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about work, or responsibilities, or even the complicated feelings I'd buried deep down for Amartya. I was just... here, in the moment.

And maybe that was enough for now. After all I've not been doing something fun or exciting lately just my perpetual routine, I've became slave to myself. But this guy up here is something, don't know the right one or wrong but I can't move away from this moment.

The night slowly passed by we were full to the neck and are sleepy so I insisted to drop him off to his place. Yeah, I don't have anything naughty in my mind just chivalrous of me.

I pulled up outside Amartya's place, parking just a bit away from the front gate. The quiet of the night settled in around us, only interrupted by the soft hum of the car engine. Neither of us seemed ready to leave the safe bubble of the car. The whole drive back had been easy, light, filled with a sarcastic comment here, a ridiculous story there—but now that we were here, reality crept back in.

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, trying to keep it casual. "Well, this is your stop. Safe and sound."

Amartya unclicked his seatbelt with that damn smile of his—the one that made it impossible to tell what was going through his head. "Thanks for the ride, boss lady."

I shot him a look. "Stop calling me that."

He grinned wider. "What? You run your own brand, Maya. You are literally the boss."

"Yeah, but you make it sound like I'm a dictator." I rolled my eyes, though the playful banter tugged at the corners of my mouth.

He shrugged. "Maybe that's because you scare people at work."

I scoffed, "Scare people? I just run a tight ship."

"Sure," he said, laughing. But then the smile faded, his eyes softening for a second. "Thanks for tonight...for being cool."

I shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. "Eh, don't get used to it."

Amartya got out of the car, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something else—something real. But then he just gave me a lazy salute and walked toward his building. I watched him go, feeling something stir in my chest. But I ignored it—like I always did—and peeled out of there before my brain could start overthinking.

Mornings were supposed to be peaceful, but I've come to realize they're just life's way of kicking you in the face after a night out. The sun was obnoxiously bright, my alarm clock felt like it was conspiring against me, and my bed was too damn comfortable to leave.

But leave I must, because business waits for no one. Not even me.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled through my morning routine—coffee, shower, the usual "let's get my shit together" pep talk in the mirror. Despite everything, my mind kept circling back to Amartya.

I should've seen this coming. There was something about him, something that kept my mind buzzing like an annoying little fly that wouldn't go away. Last night was...different. We talked, we laughed, we were normal. But it was too easy to slip back into our own separate worlds. What did that even mean?

"Don't be dramatic," I muttered to myself, tying my hair up into a neat bun as if that would somehow tie my thoughts into order, too. I had a brand to run. That was where my focus needed to be. Not on some guy who wasn't even thinking about me.