Chapter 5
982 Words
Together, they plate the food with a practiced ease born from years of cooking side by side. Sarah can’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as she works beside her grandmother, the familiar rhythm of their movements a comforting reminder of home.
Once everything is ready, Sarah leads her excited grandmother out of the apartment, the plated food carefully balanced in her hands. They reach John’s door, and Sarah hesitates for a moment before ringing the bell on the keypad.
The door opens almost immediately, revealing John with that same pleasant smile reserved for her grandmother and the now-familiar deadpan expression for Sarah. If her grandmother notices the tension between them, she doesn’t show it, continuing to chatter happily as they step inside.
John’s apartment is a study in contrast to Sarah’s. Where hers is cozy and warm, his is sleek and modern, the clean lines and minimalist decor reflecting the no-nonsense persona he projects. As they move toward the dining area, Sarah can’t help but feel a little out of place.
They settle around the table, her grandmother taking the lead in the conversation, effortlessly weaving between topics with her usual grace. John, to his credit, engages politely, though his occasional glances at Sarah.
John listens attentively, his initial disinterest in the lunch gathering now replaced by the turns of conversation. Sarah notices this shift. Why does he have to be so adaptable, so effortlessly charming? It’s almost as if he’s doing it on purpose, knowing how it gets under her skin.
Her grandmother teases her to ask John to teach her to cook so she can balance with takeouts. John chuckles animatedly at this jab. Sarah threatens to leave them at the table, but she stays. They laugh, the conversation shifts.
True to her character, her grandmother starts making her ominous remarks about John staying by Sarah’s side in the coming times. Her tone is casual, but the weight of her words hangs heavily in the air, like a prophecy delivered with a smile.
John c***s looks at Sarah, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What does she mean by that?”
Sarah ruefully shakes her head. “My grandmother is convinced that she’ll be dying soon.”
John blinks, clearly taken aback. “I didn’t realize...”
“Oh, don’t indulge her,” Sarah cuts him off seeing that he took her grandmother seriously.
Her grandmother laughs at Sarah, “You’re in denial.”
Sarah rolls her eyes.
The conversation moves on but Sarah can see that her grandmother’s words have left an impression on John. She’s not sure if that’s a good thing to see worry on his expression or not.
The meal wraps up on a good note. As they prepare to leave, her grandmother insists on leaving behind a portion of the peppered meat for John, despite his protests. Sarah watches the exchange with a mix of amusement.
As they rise from the table, her grandmother leans in close to whisper in her ear, “I think he likes you.”
Sarah rolls her eyes but can’t suppress the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You’re imagining things, Grandma.”
“Perhaps,” her grandmother replies with a wink, “but I’ve been right before.”
"Thank you for the lunch," her grandmother says warmly, shaking John’s hand. "It’s been a pleasure."
"The pleasure was mine," John replies, his smile genuine.
Sarah follows her grandmother to the door, holding the plates they brought over. She’s about to make a quick exit when her grandmother turns to John.
"Take care of her, won’t you?" Her words are light, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness.
John meets her gaze, something unspoken passing between them. "I will."
Sarah stiffens, about to protest, but her grandmother’s soft touch on her arm stops her. The older woman looks at her with a tender smile, a mix of love and understanding in her eyes.
"Don’t be too hard on yourself, Sarah," she whispers, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "And don’t be too hard on him, either."
With that, she walks out of the apartment, leaving Sarah standing in the doorway, feeling more conflicted than ever.
The silence in the room is deafening once her grandmother is gone. Sarah turns slowly, meeting John’s steady gaze. There’s no trace of his earlier teasing or frustration, just a calm, patient expression that unnerves her.
"I should go," she says abruptly, moving to gather the dishes.
John stops her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Leave it. I’ll take care of it."
"Why do you have to be so nice all of a sudden?" she asks, half-joking, half-serious.
John shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Maybe I’m just trying to balance things out."
Sarah rolls her eyes, though she can’t help the small smile tugging at her own lips. "You’re impossible."
"And you’re stubborn," he counters, still smiling.
For a moment, they just stand there, the tension between them easing into something softer, more manageable. Sarah isn’t sure what to make of it, but she knows one thing for certain—her grandmother’s meddling, as frustrating as it is, has opened a door she’s not sure she’s ready to close.
"Thanks for helping her," she says quietly, meeting his eyes. "And for lunch."
"Anytime," he replies, his tone sincere.
Sarah nods, not trusting herself to say anything more. With a final glance, she turns and heads for the door. She’s almost out when his voice stops her.
"Sarah."
She turns, her heart skipping a beat. "Yes?"
"I’m sorry about the things I said on your first day here, I was out of line," he says. “Can we be civil?”
Sarah watches the genuineness in his eyes and after some thought, she nods slowly as she backs out of his apartment with a smile.
“Maybe.”
- Writer
