And That’s How I Met Her…

Short story - A brewing conversation

The breeze was soft, the café cozy, and Shreya—half anxious, half bored—posted on Instagram: “Perfect weather, perfect coffee spot. Now just waiting for life to surprise me.”

She smiled faintly at her phone. This was her mother’s idea, after all—meeting a man from a matrimony site. Shreya wasn’t exactly a fan of arranged meetings, but saying no to her mom was harder than it looked.

She glanced around the café. Warm lights, laughter, the smell of coffee and cinnamon in the air. Everyone seemed to be having easy, happy conversations. Meanwhile, she sat there overthinking her life choices.

College was different, she thought. Late-night chai, spontaneous road trips, no deadlines. Now her job felt like wearing heels all day—respectable, but exhausting.

Just then, a man in a crisp white shirt stopped beside her table.

“Excuse me,” he said politely.

Without looking up, she replied,

“I’m waiting for someone. Can I please get a cappuccino and some cookies? Oh—and extra sugar, I like it sweet.”

“Sure,” he said, with a tiny smile.

When her coffee arrived, Shreya wrapped her hands around the cup, letting the warmth sink in. The first sip was heavenly—rich, creamy, just the right kind of sweet. She felt her shoulders relax for the first time that day.

“At least the coffee’s worth it,” she muttered under her breath.

Minutes passed. Still no sign of the guy. She checked her phone again—no messages.

“Seriously? He stood me up?” she sighed, gathering her things.

At the counter, she asked for the bill.

“It’s already paid, ma’am,” the cashier said, smiling.

“Paid? By who?”

The cashier nodded towards a corner table. Shreya turned and froze—it was the same man who’d taken her order.

“Wait—you’re Raunak?”

He stood up, a quiet confidence in his voice.

“I am. You seemed deep in thought, so I thought I’d let you enjoy your coffee first.”

“You could’ve just said hello,” she said, half-smiling.

“Maybe. But then I wouldn’t have seen that smile when you took your first sip.”

She rolled her eyes, trying not to blush.

“Wow. Do you rehearse these lines, or do they just come naturally?”

He laughed.

“Only when the company’s worth it.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The café buzzed around them, soft music playing in the background.

Then Raunak said quietly, “I hope you don’t mind—I paid for your coffee. Just a small gesture. But if you’d let me, I’d love to pick up every bill, share every silence, and stand beside you—through coffee, chaos, and everything in between.”

Shreya looked at him, her irritation melting into surprise—and something softer.

“You really do know how to make an impression,” she said, smiling.

“I was hoping to,” he replied.

And that’s how her story began—with Raunak.