Meeting Her Sweetheart

The next day, after surviving a particularly tedious day at the office, I found myself drawn back to Sparkle Cafe. Maybe a change of scenery would jump-start my stalled creativity.

"Rihan?"

A jolt of surprise shot through me as I spun around. Sia stood there, a playful smile on her lips. "Hey, Sia. Fancy seeing you here again."

"This place seems to have become your haunt," she remarked, fiddling with something in her purse.

"Just opened last week," I explained. "You?"

She kept digging, her brow furrowed. "Ugh, I swear I had a chocolate here somewhere."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "What?"

Sia met my gaze, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I know, it sounds crazy. Most people wouldn't believe it, but I actually exercised some restraint and only ate two. I have a weakness for chocolate."

A mental note – Sia liked chocolate. "Listen," I offered, "there's a shop nearby, we could get you another one."

Her rummaging stopped abruptly. "Actually, this isn't for me."

Intrigued, I waited for her to elaborate. Silence.

"For my sweetheart," she finally admitted.

Imagine a lightning bolt aimed straight for your heart. That's the closest thing I could describe to the jolt that ripped through me. Stunned. Shocked. Devastated. Somehow, all at once. "Sweetheart?"

Sia, oblivious to my internal turmoil, pulled out a chocolate bar. "See? I told you I didn't eat all three. Come on." She grabbed my hand, sending a jolt of electricity sparking through me. "I'll introduce you."

Words deserted me. All I could manage was a numb nod. As she tugged me through the bustling crowd, her hair cascading down her back like a dark curtain, the world seemed to fade into an indistinct hum. The only sound clear in my mind: her hurried breaths.

The crowd thinned, and she steered me towards a playground. "This is my sweetheart."

My gaze swept across the playground, landing on a tall, broad-shouldered figure. My throat constricted. "That…military guy?"

Sia rolled her eyes. "No way! Look closer." She pointed towards a small girl sitting under the lone tree, lost in her own world. "Alaina."

Relief washed over me so intense, it felt like a physical sensation. A foolish grin stretched across my face.

"You're acting strange, Rihan," Sia observed.

I forced a chuckle. The misunderstanding, a comedic error, had extinguished the embers of despair. The warmth of relief spread, a balm on my wounded ego. "Sorry, I just…"

"Thought the guy?"

"No," I stammered, digging myself deeper.

Her smirk was a dead giveaway. She was enjoying my flustered state. "Alright, Mr. Misunderstandings, shall we meet her properly?"

A small coffee stall caught my eye. "Coffee?"

"Sounds great."

"I'll get it for both of you," I offered.

"Hold on," she said, pulling out a bill and pressing it into my palm. Her touch sent another jolt, a pleasurable one this time. "I'm a self-sufficient woman, Rihan. My treat." Her fingers lingered on mine before closing them over the money. "Don't even think of arguing."

The argument was off the table. Her jaw was set with a determination that brooked no resistance. With a resigned nod, I shuffled towards the coffee stand, ordering two coffees in disposable cups. The barista filled them with steaming brown liquid, careful not to burn my fingers as I took them.

Just as Sia prompted the girl named Alaina to greet me, my feet glued themselves to the ground. The shock coursed through me – Alaina, the very same little imp I'd tangled with over a wayward scrap of paper and the proper use of a dustbin, stood before me.

"You?" Alaina blurted, mirroring my surprise.

"Hi," I offered, plastering a smile that probably resembled a grimace.

Sia's gaze darted between us. "You two know each other?"

Alaina stood, her eyes flitting between me and the coffee cups. "Mister, are you..."

Before the past incident could come exploding out, a primal instinct for damage control kicked in. "Hey, Alaina," I cut her off, voice laced with faux friendliness. "Yep, I remember what you said last time. These coffees are definitely getting binned, no arguments." I added a touch of forced sweetness, hoping to deflect her ire.

Alaina blinked, clutching an unwrapped chocolate bar, her initial shock replaced by skepticism.

 With a silent prayer of thanks, I handed Sia her coffee, a small peace offering. "How do you know her?" I queried, hoping to steer the conversation away from the near disaster. "Family?"

Sia blew on her coffee, a plume of steam escaping the cup. "She lives in my building. Isn't she adorable?"

Not wanting to risk another encounter with the little truth bomb, I muttered a simple, "Indeed."

"So, how did you two cross paths?" Sia's question hung in the air, laced with curiosity.

"Well," I hedged, "it's hard to resist that kind of innocent charm."

Sia's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You like kids, huh?"

A quick glance at Alaina found her happily munching on her chocolate. "Yeah, always have. It's their..."

"Eyes," Sia finished the sentence for me. "So full of wonder. Why can't our eyes hold that same sparkle?"

The question lingered in the air. I pondered it for a moment. "Maybe," I offered, "it's the worries that steal the twinkle away."

The rest of our coffee break passed in a companionable silence. As Sia finished her cup, she searched for a bin, coming up empty. Seizing the opportunity, I extended my hand. "Here, let me get that."

"Thanks," she replied, handing me the cup. "I probably should head out. Bye, Alaina."

"Bye," Alaina chirped back. "Thanks for the chocolate!"

"Anything for you, sweetheart," Sia replied, her voice warm. "Rihan, see you around."

"Yeah, see you," I echoed, watching her disappear into the alleyway.

Alone with Alaina, I felt a prickle of scrutiny. "Your cleanliness standards are atrocious," she announced bluntly. "But your taste in women, I'll give you that."

Caught off guard, I stammered, "What are you talking about?"

Alaina crossed her arms, chin thrust out. "Don't play dumb. I'm a girl, and I know a guy who likes a girl when I see one."

"You're just a kid," I scoffed. "You don't know anything."

"And you're an adult," she countered, "who can't even dispose of rubbish properly."

Feeling a blush creep up my neck, I squatted down to meet her eye level. "How did you know?"

"It's written all over your face," she declared, a hint of frustration in her voice. "You look at her like..." she paused, searching for the right words, "...like my little brother looks at the ice cream man."

A terrible metaphor, but undeniably accurate. "So, what am I supposed to do?" I sighed, surprised by the question escaping my lips.

Alaina shrugged. "Papa always gives presents to Mama. Maybe you should try that."

The suggestion hit me like a bolt of lightning. Why hadn't I thought of that? "Thanks, Alaina," I said genuinely.

Standing up, I was about to leave, but then hesitated, turning back to her. "And what exactly am I supposed to give her?"

Alaina threw her hands up in exasperation. "How should I know? You're the grown-up! Figure it out yourself."