The River Knows

Chapter 3 Meeting Anika

Tara stood in front of her closet, eyes darting between colors and patterns before finally pulling out her favorite pink floral kurti. She paired it with crisp white sandals—the kind that made her feel light and carefree.

She let her hair fall open and free, dark waves brushing gently against her shoulders. For a moment, she stood still, gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

“Makeup is too overrated,” she muttered under her breath, tilting her head with a smirk. “I’m a natural beauty.”

Her reflection smiled back—maybe teasing, maybe agreeing. She picked up her little side bag, slipped her phone inside, and headed downstairs.

“Ammaaa! I’m going to meet Anika! I’ll be late!” she called out, her voice echoing through the living room.

From the kitchen came her mother’s quick response, “Do I need to keep dinner for you?”

Tara slid on her sandals, adjusting the strap as she replied, “No need, Amma! I’ll eat with her!”

Without waiting for another word, she grabbed her helmet and hopped onto her bright yellow scooty—the one she had saved for during her college days. The key turned, the engine hummed to life, and the familiar vibration filled her chest with quiet excitement.

She put on her helmet, tightened the strap, and smiled to herself.

The road stretched out ahead—sunset melting into shades of orange and purple, wind tugging gently at her dupatta as she drove.

Every corner she crossed felt like a piece of her old life coming back—shops closing, kids chasing footballs, the aroma of chai and roasted peanuts from the street stalls.

Her heart beat a little faster as the board came into view—

“BeanLit Café” — Anika’s world.

The little café was glowing under string lights, laughter spilling out through the door. Tara parked her scooty, removed her helmet, and took a deep breath. She could already see Anika behind the counter, her hair tied in a messy bun, talking animatedly to a customer.

Tara smiled unconsciously. No matter how chaotic life got, this place—and that face—always felt like home.

As she stepped inside, the little bell above the door chimed.

Anika turned, her eyes lighting up instantly. “Taraaa!”

Tara waved. “Hey, chef boss.”

Anika grinned. “You’re late, Miss Office Lady. Thought you’d forgotten your old friend.”

Tara chuckled. “Never. Just got… a little lost in my thoughts.”

Anika handed the coffee pot to one of her staff and walked over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Lost in thoughts, huh? Or lost thinking about someone?”

Tara playfully rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You and your theories.”

They both laughed.

Anika gestured toward their usual corner table by the window—the same one where they used to dream about life, success, and love years ago. Tara followed her there, her smile fading slightly as the memories came rushing back.

The aroma of coffee. The hum of people talking. The flicker of warm light on the table.

Everything felt too perfect… except the weight in her chest.

“Hey,” Anika said softly, watching her face. “You okay?”

Tara looked up, forcing a smile. “Yeah… just—there’s something I need to tell you.”

Anika leaned forward, curious. “Oh no, this sounds serious.”

Tara exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. “You remember the company I told you about? The interview yesterday?”

“Of course. The one that gave you that anxiety attack?”

Tara nodded, her throat tightening. “Yeah… and remember that one person I never wanted to see again?”

Anika’s expression changed instantly—eyes narrowing, smile fading. “Don’t tell me…”

Tara’s silence said it all.

For a few seconds, only the soft jazz music filled the air between them.

Anika finally spoke. “He was there?”

Tara looked out the window toward the dimming sky, her voice trembling just slightly. “He was the interviewer.”

The room around them seemed to pause.

Anika gave a full-stretched motivational speech, the kind that only she could pull off — part drama, part sass, but all heart.

“Listen, Tara,” she said, gesturing wildly. “Life doesn’t stop just because someone decided to break your heart or your confidence. You fell once, fine. But girl, look at you — you stood up again! You got the job! That’s huge!”

Tara just stared at her, trying not to laugh at how serious she looked mid-rant.

Anika continued, pointing a spoon like a mic. “Stop letting your past play rent-free in your head. You’re not the same Tara from five years ago. You’re stronger, wiser, and way hotter!”

That last line broke the tension — Tara burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, Anika. You really think I’m hotter now?”

“Of course!” Anika grinned. “Heartbreak glow-up, babe. It’s real science.”

They both started roasting each other, trading playful insults about their fashion sense and failed relationships until they were both breathless from laughter.

“Okay, enough therapy,” Anika finally said, fanning herself. “Let’s make noodles before I start crying about your tragic romantic timeline.”

They walked toward the tiny kitchen in the back of the café — a cozy nook filled with spice jars, coffee beans, and old fairy lights. Anika grabbed two packets of instant noodles and tossed one dramatically to Tara.

“Chef Tara, would you kindly pour the boiling water?”

“Yes, Chef Drama Queen,” Tara shot back, grinning.

Minutes later, the rich aroma of masala noodles filled the air. They carried their bowls and grabbed two chilled bottles of cola before heading upstairs — to their place.

Above the café was a small loft space — dim, warm, scattered with bean bags, fairy lights, and books piled everywhere. It wasn’t fancy, but to them, it was heaven. Their hideout since college days.

They sat cross-legged on the floor, slurping noodles, talking between bites, and laughing every few seconds.

“So,” Anika said between mouthfuls, “if you were to date again, what’s your type now?”

Tara thought for a second. “Hmm… someone peaceful, emotionally stable, not a walking red flag.”

Anika laughed so hard she nearly choked. “Basically, not your ex.”

“Exactly.” Tara smirked.

“Okay, but admit it,” Anika teased. “You still stalked him once after the breakup.”

Tara groaned. “Ugh, once? Try five times a week, for three months. It was a phase!”

“Girl, that’s not a phase — that’s a research project!”

They both cracked up again.

Then the conversation drifted — from their college memories to Tara’s first day at the new job, Anika’s new dessert experiments at the café, and even to silly things like “if you could live anywhere, where would it be?”

“Somewhere near water,” Tara said quietly. “Maybe a riverside cottage. Peaceful. No chaos.”

Anika smiled knowingly. “The river again, huh?”

Tara nodded. “Yeah. It’s the only thing that still listens.”

For a moment, both went quiet — the kind of silence that didn’t need words. The lights flickered softly above them, and outside, the city’s noise felt far away.

Anika broke the silence first, nudging Tara. “You’ll be okay, you know? You always find your way back.”

Tara smiled faintly. “Yeah… I guess the river still knows.”