Chapter 15: The Flour and the Fire
[System Notification: Main Quest Updated — 'Breaking the Mold']
The kitchen felt like a courtroom. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and the heavy, ragged breathing of Mrs. Khanna. She held Ananya's sketchbook as if it were a piece of radioactive material.
Julian stood by the door, adjusting his cufflinks, waiting for the inevitable explosion. He wanted to see Ananya crumble. He wanted her to crawl back to the safety of his shadow.
"A bakery?" Mrs. Khanna's voice was a trembling whisper. "I told the entire neighborhood my daughter was the Vice President of a global firm. I told them you were building the future of India. And you... you want to sell bread?"
Ananya stepped forward. For the first time since she landed at the airport, she didn't look like a porcelain doll. She looked like she was made of steel.
"It's a patisserie, Mom," Ananya said, her voice steady and clear. "And yes. I want to sell bread. I want to sell eclairs and sourdough and the best cardamom buns this city has ever tasted. Because when I'm in the kitchen, I don't have panic attacks. When I'm baking, I don't feel like I'm failing. I feel like I'm living."
"It's a hobby, Ananya!" Mrs. Khanna snapped, her eyes flashing with shame. "You are wasting your London education!"
"No, Mom," Ananya countered, taking the sketchbook back with a firm grip. "I'm using my education to build something that belongs to me. Not to Julian, not to a board of directors who don't know my name, and not to you so you can win a gossip war with the Sharma Aunties."
I stood by the counter, my heart swelling with pride. "She already has a business plan, Aunty. And I've already drafted the interior layouts. It's going to be the most beautiful space in the city."
The Exit of the Villain
Julian let out a short, sharp laugh. "A bakery designed by a disgraced architect and run by a burnt-out executive. Good luck getting a loan."
Ishaan stepped into Julian's space, his presence effectively cutting off Julian's air supply.
"They don't need a loan," Ishaan said, his voice dropping into that protective rumble that always made my stomach flip. "I've been saving my residency pay for five years. I'm the first investor. Now, Julian... I believe your sixty seconds are up. Get out of this house, get out of this town, and if I ever see you near Ananya—or Meera—again, you'll find out exactly how much 'jungle' I have in me."
Julian looked at Ishaan's clenched fists, then at Ananya's cold, determined gaze. He realized he had lost the leverage.
"Fine," Julian sneered, grabbing his leather coat. "Enjoy your 'patisserie.' I'll send you a postcard from the real world."
He slammed the door behind him. The silence that followed was different—it wasn't tense; it was heavy with the weight of things finally said.
The Realization
Mrs. Khanna sat down at the wooden table, her face buried in her hands. My mother walked over, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"She's happy, Sarita," my mother said softly. "Look at her. She hasn't looked this alive since she was ten years old. Isn't that better than a Vice President title?"
Ananya walked over to her mother and knelt beside her. "I'm sorry I lied, Mom. I was just so scared of being 'normal.' But I can't be your Gold Medalist anymore. I just want to be Ananya."
Mrs. Khanna looked at the sketchbook, at a beautiful watercolor drawing of a café with blue shutters and marigolds in the window. Slowly, her hand reached out to stroke the page.
"The shutters," Mrs. Khanna whispered. "They should be a darker blue. Like the ocean."
Ananya let out a sob of relief, hugging her mother's waist.
The Escape
I felt a hand slide into mine. I looked up to see Ishaan watching the scene with a soft smile. He leaned down, his lips brushing against my temple.
"The truth is a lot of work, isn't it?" he whispered.
"The hardest," I admitted.
"Now that the air is clear," Ishaan said, tugging on my hand. "I think you and I have one more lie to address. The one where we told everyone we were 'just' friends who happened to get fake-engaged."
He didn't wait for an answer. He pulled me toward the back door, away from the crying mothers and the sketchbook.
"Where are we going?" I asked, stumbling after him.
"To the cliff," he said, his eyes bright with a resolve that made my knees weak. "No mothers. No Julian. No 'altitude therapy.' Just us. And a very overdue conversation."
[System Notification: Quest 'The Truth' — IN PROGRESS]
[Author's Corner]
SHE DID IT! 🥐 Ananya chose the buns over the boardroom! And can we talk about Ishaan being the "First Investor"? 😭❤️ But now... Ishaan and Meera are heading to the cliff. No more hiding!
Status Update:
Ananya: Future Business Owner / Brave Soul.
The Mothers: Processing the shock (and the blue shutters).
Ishaan & Meera: Heading toward the BIGGEST moment of the book so far.