Amidst Our Erred Stars

16

if this chapter gets over 1k comments by 11 pm tomorrow, I'll update the next chapter 👩🏻‍🦼

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There was an unknown dude in the kitchen when I came back from the bakery.

It was the reception day and Sahaj being the great husband he is only in the department of supporting my business, ordered the cake from my bakery and paid double the amount he should've.

I denied it twice but when he didn't listen, greed won the third time.

I wanted to see the last-minute details before the cake was delivered and went to see how things were going now that Sahaj made Buzz and Braids the new owners till tomorrow.

The sales were good, the repeat customers were thankfully increasing every day and Junaid's funky cupcakes were high in demand.

Coming back to the situation at hand, there was no one in the house, Sahaj was at his paternal grandparents' house, which was now his uncle's house, who lived closer to the airport and all his family was arriving there according to what he told me.

I picked up the cricket bat that was hanging on the wall as decoration before approaching the man who was munching on the rosemary and lemon cookies I was experimenting with before leaving.

Before I could swing the bat at him and probably break his shoulder, he turned around.

My heartbeats skyrocketed, thudding so loudly in my chest that I was sure the entire neighbourhood could hear. The man slowly turned around, still chewing on the rosemary and lemon cookies I had baked earlier.

His casual demeanour contrasted sharply with my rising panic. His face was unfamiliar, yet there was something oddly non-threatening about him.

"Who are you?" I demanded, gripping the bat tighter, ready to defend myself if necessary.

"Who are you?" He asked.

I took a step back, gripping the bat tightly. He didn't move but continued munching on the last cookie. "Look, whoever you are, I'm going to let this slide, but you need to leave now, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if about to speak.

"I'm not calling the police, and I'm not pressing charges," I continued, my voice firm.

He snickered, a look of amusement spreading across his face. My anger flared, watching the thief laugh instead of showing any remorse.

"Kaun ho tum?" I asked.

"Pyaar se pucho thoda."

"Dekho-"

"Dekh raha hoon, kaafi sundar lag rahi ho." He replied.

"Excuse me? Who the hell are yo-"

"Zaran Randhawa, nice to meet you." He interrupted, forwarding his hand.

I stared at his extended hand, unsure whether to trust this man who had just introduced himself so casually while standing in my kitchen and eating my cookies.

"Zaran Randhawa?" I repeated, slowly lowering the bat. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"

"Your house?" He asked, "Wait, am I at the wrong house?" He looked around for a second but then narrowed his eyes at me, "Who are you?"

Who is he and why the hell is he interviewing me?

I glared at Zaran, crossing my arms. "I'm Seerat, and this is my house. So, why are you here?" My house for the next eight months.