It's been 9 years, and Manish still knows how to woo me. Coffee. You know how some dog owners will shake around a bag of treats to get their dog to come back to them when lost? Well, if I ever get lost in the wilderness somewhere, all you have to do to get me to come is to shake a bag of really good coffee beans and call out, "Jaya, come! I'll make you a nice fresh cup using these!"

    The excitement potion inside of me is bubbling so furiously that I'm sure it's going to spill out all over the place. On this frigid night, a nice cup of hot coffee is what I need to kickstart the conversation with Manish and to really feel like I'm warm and where I belong. I feel the saliva pooling at my mouth with each passing thought of how amazing that coffee is going to taste, as well as how fun our conversations are going to be.

    I crane my head over one more time just to make sure all the windows are up and tight in my car. My legs move briskly to avoid being stuck in this cold weather, because I can already feel a little bit of numbness nibbling at my fingertips. The one hope that I have buzzing inside of my stomach is that Manish's apartment is a warm and fuzzy contrast to this harsh weather.

"153, 153," I continuously mutter like a broken record, until I get to the house that is the right one. I secretly hope and pray that it's the right one, because my sense of direction is about as good as a dog's sense of color. With a slight exhale, I push the doorbell and wait for a few seconds.

While I'm standing there, a million thoughts are buzzing around in my mind like little bees. What are we going to talk about? What food does he have? Goddamn, I'm starving. I should've had something light before I came here. Before I can berate myself even more for my appetite, I hear the lock click and see the door swing open. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Manish standing there, with an eyebrow raised in expectation.

When he sees me, his face erupts with his luminescent smile and his contagious joy infecting his eyes. "Jaya, hey!" he greets, as he moves out of the way to let me into his house.

"Good to see you, Manish," I greet, as he closes the door behind me. My eyes dart around to get a good feel of what the apartment is like.

As I drink in my surroundings, the first word that floods my mind is "calm." The warm air circulating the house as well as the gentle aroma of coffee and flickering incense wafting through my nose causes a soothing feeling to wash over me. The ivory walls, complete with the little pops of furniture and pictures here and there cause so much of the worry built up inside of me to dissolve into nothing. The gentle golden lighting and how neat and orderly all of the furniture is really cause a warm sense of comfort to engulf my veins and dissolve the stress that's cemented in them.

I follow Manish to where I assume is the living room, as he asks me, "So, what do you think?"

A little smile curls at my lips, and I say, "It feels so warm and comfortable, Manish. I really like it!" I comment, as he moves to the side so that I can sit down. I notice the giant, soft looking couch and just looking at it makes me want to jump on, get a fuzzy blanket, and take a long nap. Instead, I do the next best thing, which is flop back on it like a dead fish and enjoy whatever food Manish is bringing.

Manish, instead of following me, leads into the kitchen to bring whatever food he has. First, he brings out the coffee for us to drink. I can see the steam wafting out of the beige colored ceramic cups, as the toasty smell floats into my nostrils and causes the excitement in me to crackle even more furiously. "One cup for you," he announces, as he hands me the warm cup of deliciousness. I thank him verbally and with a slight smile, as he prances back to the kitchen.

I take a small sip, letting the drink gently flow through my mouth and trickle down my throat, as I feel the warmth of it crawl up to my fingertips. "Mm, he remembered to not add sugar!" I think excitedly, as a little part of me squeals in slight joy. I see Manish turn back with a plate in hand and he starts to walk over to the table, like a servant serving a queen her meal of quail and caviar.

"These are just some cookies. How hungry are you? I can whip up something really quick."

Another little smile curls at my lips. As much as I adore Manish's cooking and would rather die than go without dishes like his moong dal halwa, the hunger inside of me isn't growling furiously enough for me to want a full meal. "I'm good, but maybe another time."

With a nod, he himself flops back onto the couch and picks up his cup of coffee. "You know, this feels amazing. I always loved our little coffee chats back then, so these are just a godsend for me."

The little smile that has been continuously present on my face just erupts into an even bigger one that completely stretches out my cheeks. "Me too. Especially with how stressful my job is."

Manish's eyes widen when he realizes how much coding is like child's play compared to coronary care medicine. He sets his cup down on his lap with a red-hot question burning in his typically warm eyes. "So, how stressful is your job usually? I'm aware that medicine really isn't all rainbows and fairies, but how bad is it for you? Because you dealt with stress like a boss back then."

I try to mask the little flatter-fueled snicker behind the coffee cup, before setting it down on my lap so that I can answer his question. "Well, it's a mixed bag. If we're talking generally, I'd say it's mild. But there are just some days where it's awful. And don't get me started on losing patients. That's the absolute worst. My dad says that you eventually get used to it, but I always feel a little guilty when a patient passes away."

Sympathy extinguishes the question that was burning in Manish's eye, as I see him feel a little bit bad for even asking such a question. In an attempt to soften the response, I add on, "It doesn't happen super often though. And it's part of the job."

Manish nods, like that's kind of a given in the job, and then continues to sip on his coffee like there's no tomorrow. "I get it. It's not like every patient you treat will be miraculously cured with the snap of fingers. Just like how bugs in code can't be fixed by luck. Shit happens, right?"

I give a definite nod. He's so right. Shit happens, and it's not just confined to the hospital. My whole life is defined by the sentence, "Shit happens." I take another sip of my coffee, as another burning question comes up on Manish's face.

He takes one more sip of his drink, and then asks, "So, what according to you was the worst branch of medicine to learn about?"

The answer to that almost immediately pops in my mind. The traumatizing memories of the chemistry behind the prescriptions and mechanisms of action leave me stuttering, "Pharmacology." Once I overcome the trauma that freezes my mind and sends chills down my spine, I continue on with my answer. "You know how much I hated chemistry in high school. And pharmacology is ridiculously chemistry heavy, so it was a nightmare. The second I had the ability to learn about a different branch, I jumped onto it."

Manish chuckles, as I can see memories of high school chemistry flash through his mind. We unfortunately were cursed with the same teacher, who made her quizzes so ridiculously hard that there were times where the highest score was a 70%.

I can feel Manish shudder with memories of the pain, as he continues with, "Man, I hated that class. I would come into class, with everything prepared, and I'd look at the first question and go, 'What the fuck is this?' I feel bad that you had to relive that pain in medical school."

I can still see memories flashing in Manish's warm brown eyes. That conversation about how painful chemistry was for us unlocks a whole new set of memories that I had buried deep in my mind since graduating high school. "Still not as bad as AP biology."

Manish chokes a little on his coffee, as a new wave of unfortunate memories starts washing over him. I can see all the jokes being loaded up in his mind and getting ready to be fired.

That's how I know this night is going to be a good one.

*******

    Despite the fact that we have been talking for the past few hours, it feels like no time has passed. Like I just got here 5 minutes ago, and we just started talking about everything under the sun. I feel like my heart is about to explode from all the happiness and adrenaline that is pumping through it at this moment. My chest feels whole and sublime with all the laughter and good vibes circulating throughout the air, while I can see Manish's face illuminating because of the joy that we share.

Manish wipes the tears that are forming in the inner corners of his eyes, as he smooths out his hair. "Remember the time that I nearly hit you in the face with the plum bob?" I shudder a little bit, as I remember the dense bob nearly hitting my nose. High school physics was overall a terrible class, and that wouldn't have made my day any better.

"Well, thankfully I jumped out of the way fast enough."

Manish giggles a little bit, as he remembers how I snapped out of the way to avoid being hit. "You had Bond-like reflexes, you know that, right?"

"That's what happens when  you grow up with Ananth," I retort, as all the memories of physical altercations between my younger brother and I flash through my mind. Growing up with a little brother is basically another way of saying that your self-defense skills and reflexes are top notch.

Manish once again giggles like a 5 year old, as I check my watch. "10:34," it reads. My eyes bug out of my head like someone pushed them out from behind, as I set my cup down on the coffee table. Man, it feels like no time went by, I think to myself, as I lean back into the couch.

I set down my cup onto the coffee table, as I get up. "Listen, Manish, it's getting late. I really think we should get back."

Manish's face falls a little when he realizes that I'm leaving. Knowing that he's going to do something hilariously dramatic, he jumps up. His arm outstretches towards me, and he starts screech-singing, "JAANE NAHI DENGE TUJHE!" (Please don't go), in reference to 3 Idiots.

I facepalm so hard that my forehead starts to sting a little bit, but I can't prevent the chuckles that bellow from my chest. Manish starts giggling himself, as he inches towards me. We both simultaneously snake our arms around each other, and I feel a warm, prickly feeling travel down my spine to replace the sharp, icy feelings that had been frozen previously.

Manish's hands gently caress my hair, as I close any space in between us by pulling him closer to me. "I had so much fun. We need to do this again."

Once our arms loosen, I continue with, "Absolutely. I was thinking of having Jen and her fiance over next week or so. You should join! It'll be fun."

Manish's eyes widen with pure joy and excitement, as he nods vigorously. "Absolutely. Anwar, right? He was your dance partner growing up too, right?"

I nod, as I remember all the dance routines he and I used to practice together in his garage. More importantly, there's one more connection between Anwar and I which I find more significant.

"Also, he's your mama's best friend's son, right?"

I nod again. Damn, Manish remembered that too. Impressive. "Yeah, I think you'll like him!" Knowing that Anwar, Jen, Manish, and I are going to be together is like an explosion, in many different ways. Emotions, ideas, and memories, just to name a few.

But nobody ever said that it was going to be a bad thing.

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I love writing chapters like these! Manish and Ashwini really did, and still do, enjoy each other's company. How do you guys think their relationship will progress from this point on? Let me know in the comments.

I don't have much to say. Hope you guys liked this chapter!

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Love you guys,

Shree