Sofia's car rolled to a stop before her diner, a puff of smoke gushed out from the car's behind. She closed her eyes briefly in disappointment.

Just last week, Johny, the full of himself mechanic of the area had worked on her car and declared in the end with determination that it wouldn't fart or cough out smoke anymore. But clearly that didn't turn out to be a reality, she would have throttled Johny if he regularly wasn't coming over to solve her many issues regarding car engines, water pipes, electric wires and heaters among many other things at both home and the diner while charging half of what he actually took from his customers. There was a favor she had done to him a couple years ago, and since then he was persistent to show how grateful he was to her.

Her eyes narrowed, the board above the diner written Mary's Diner on it was tilted sideways.

Why would the board always bend like that was a mystery.

It must be the wind, she had been guessing. Or it could also be her mother's spirit, trying to tell her something. After all, it was after her mother's name Sofia had named the diner.

She shook her head, clearing it of thoughts that would surely make her blood pressure rise high. She would have to just call Johny, the all rounder, later again to fix it.

Pushing the door open, she walked in. The jingling of bell had Simmy, the best of the three chefs of Mary's, look up from behind the counter. She had also just arrived, Sofia noticed.

"Bad morning?" Simmy raised a brow. "Has your aunt come back to torment you? With her wickedness managing to scorch you alive this time?"

Rolling eyes, Sofia walked past the booths, few of them had customers having breakfast.

"The witch has not returned, Simmy," she added after a pause, "Yet."

Walking round the counter then, she pushed open the door to her tiny office.

The office was at the corner between the cash-counter and kitchen, so, if the door was kept open she could keep an eye on both the places—which she did often. And if she craned her neck a bit from the desk, the aisle between booths would also become visible.

Simmy muttered back something but Sofia had already got inside the office. Putting down her satchel bag on the desk, she plopped down on the chair. And thoughts of Max rushed into her mind immediately--jumbling around with restless excitement, as if they had been just waiting for the golden opportunity of her having a moment of leisure.

Sofia sighed.

Now that she sat in the confinement of her tiny office, she wondered in horror if he was still mad at her.

But that was a long time ago, she consoled herself. And they were both just kids.

It was true that she had been foolish for doing what she did to him all those years ago, but that was how her teenage brain functioned while watching her family fall apart and things she hadn't ever experienced even in her nightmares becoming suddenly her reality.

For years she had been cursing herself for what she did that night to Max, and she had been hoping to meet him again and apologize. But since that night no matter how much she tried, she never got to see him or hear from him, until today.

This guilt, for ten long years, had been eating her up from the inside, day and night. And now that her wait was over, now that Max was back, she would have to find a way to talk to him, to apologize.

Her heart had hoped for him to forget everything in all these years, but clearly that was not the case. The way he ignored her this morning just proved how still very much mad he was. Now, she just hoped that this anger was at a bearable level and she still had the chance to mend their friendship.

Sofia looked heavenwards and sent a silent prayer. But that very moment, the files that were kept on the shelf behind her quite clumsily chose to come crashing down aiming her head.

Shrieking, Sofia dived sideways. And the files missed her skull by an inch. The dust that fell along covered her in a cloud and back-to-back sneezes blasted out of her mouth.

No more than a couple seconds later, the door was slammed open and Simmy followed by almost all her other staff barged in.

"What the freak happened?"

"Has the ceiling collapsed?"

"Are you alive?"

"Do we need to call an ambulance?"

While her over dramatic employees made her ears burn with their endless explosions of inquiries, groaning, Sofia picked her butt up the floor.

It was definitely a bad omen.

But at the same time it also reminded her of a sweet memory, too.

Memory of the day when in her school's library a stack of books fell on her due to her reckless browsing. On the floor she had laid disoriented for a minute or two as a heavy history book shook her skull. Out of nowhere, Max had come to her rescue then and as he dug her out from the grave of books, days of their somewhat friendship finally and truly began. Despite their families being close--her grampa being Robert Wilder's mentor, she and Max never really were more than formal. They'd seen each other occasionally since childhood but only became friends when Robert enrolled Max into the public school Sophia went to. Robert wished for his son to toughen up, which was not happening in city's most lavish private school. It surely worked wonders on Max's otherwise demure dispositions and eventually formed a friendship between them.

However, just like all the wonderful things on earth, those days too came to an end at some point.

Sofia let out a long breath feeling the loss ache in her chest.

And with many hands of fussing people coming forth to assist her, she raised to her feet.

And the day passed by with old memories, insecurities and a certain Max Wilder corrupting her useless mind.

--

"Yes, I know, he's back, Neil." Sofia fiddled her fingers, voice anxious as she spoke on the phone.

Neil was Max's cousin and a year younger than her and Max. But despite the age gap he was still a close friend to her.

"Max stopped by your house then, didn't he?" Neil seemed to be relieved. "Finally you both had that talk. Thank God. So, are all your issues solved now? Back to being friends?"

Walking around the desk she paced back and forth as far as the tiny space of her office allowed her to move. She was careful, however, not to go near the shelf, in fear that a pile of files would again crash on top of her head.

"No need to thank God already. Max didn't even acknowledge me, he was just interested in reconciling with grampa—his favorite Oldbert. Apparently, he's still mad."

She heard Neil sigh and then he said consolingly, "It's been years, Sofia. Even if he's still mad over the past, I'm sure it's resolvable."

Neil's words did not comfort her at all, although she felt like being hopeful.

For years, through many woes that she had to face in life and in the absence of her once best friend Max who after that day left for London, Sofia had craved to have a chance to talk to him. If anyone asked her what was her last wish, she would say in one heartbeat that she just wished to mend things with Max. And also to pay off the huge debt she had inherited from her parents.

Ending the phone call, with her fingertips she pressed her temples while resting one hip against the desk. Her head was aching by now with the continuous stress of questions that whirled within, all centering around Max.

But she pressured herself to stop thinking about him now and concentrate on her diner instead.

She had a business to run.

So, steeling herself, after a minute she walked out to the counter. The diner was cramped full now that it was lunchtime. All her staff was busy working except Poppy and Lila—the two new chatterbox waitresses again stood in a corner, gossiping. She approached them with the mixed tonic of glare and fuming mouth, and only after setting them right and to work, she went to the kitchen.

Simmy was humming a tune while cooking pasta, it was one of their unique recipes.

Sofia hissed, peeking inside the pot. "Put some more tomato in that, Simmy," she instructed. "This is for Mr. Romanesky, right? If you serve him this, he would throw a fit saying there's no tomato in it at all."

"You saw him out there, huh?" Simmy followed her instruction. "Such a man child!"

"But if pleased with the food, he's a darling in the matter of tips." Sofia reminded with a smirk.

Simmy chuckled. "By the way, Sof, one of our stoves is in dire need of some medical help." She pointed towards the stove across the kitchen.

Sofia grumbled under her breath.

Way too many things were in need of some essential fixing up in her life. She wondered how many of them could actually be fixed in the end.

--

In the evening, Sofia returned home to find Sam with one of his eyes black and swollen. Turned out the boy had got into a fight at school, which he clearly hadn't come out of unscathed.

"Who do I need to give a black eye?" she inquired, pressing an ice pack with much care around the injury.

"I already gave him one, before he gave me mine." He smiled, and it looked kind of creepy with one of his eyes in a discolored, puffed-up state while the other shone with mischief.

Sofia hit the back of his with the ice pack.

"Ouch!" The brat yelled in pain.

Later, Sofia got into the shower to enjoy a hot shower, which she could not, for Skyler kept knocking on the bathroom door—pleading and then yelling nonstop that she needed to go right then. It sucked that the other bathroom downstairs needed the attention of a plumber who was due to pay a visit tomorrow.

Life was just full of crap.

Grampa was very much excited during dinner, excitedly speaking all highly about Max Wilder and how he'd grown to be such a nice, well-mannered man. Skyler and Sam listened spellbound.

Grampa was so thrilled that twice he choked on food. Sofia had to thump the old guy in the back to have him breathe again.

Great.

The headless monster was a charmer too.

"He's going to take over their London branch," Grampa's expression turned a bit grim there.

"What!" Sofia was picking up the empty plates. Hearing her grandfather, she paused and snapped her head up in shock. "He will not settle here in Asthel?"

Grampa shook his head. "That's what he said. He'll be just staying here for a month and then he'll go back to London."

"But how can he just leave? Again?" Sofia nearly yelled. "I thought that after graduating from Oxford he would take over their law firm here in Asthel not the headquarter in London. Even Neil was sounding so relieved when I talked to him earlier—that he could share the workload with his cousin now."

Grampa nodded. "As far as I know, Robert, Max's father has been hoping to have his only son live in close vicinity to him. I can only imagine how unhappy he must be feeling about this, that is if he already knows about Max's decision."

Obviously.

Even she knew that wish of Robert's.

Robert Wilder was the owner of the city's most renowned law firm—Wilders. He often came over to the diner, mostly on Wednesday mornings, and ordered two sunny side-up fried eggs, toast, and chopped sirloin. And while having breakfast he would chat with her, mostly singing praises of Max in his resonant voice which would ultimately send Sofia into daydreaming—if Robert noticed it then he had chosen to stay quiet.

Skyler was in the middle of helping herself with another serving of spaghetti, she glanced up at Sofia. "Well, he probably doesn't like it over here. But you guys are friends since high school, aren't you? So, why don't you talk to him and convince him to stay?"

But no more were they, friends. Sofia smiled sadly. And now she feared she would ever get the chance to reconcile that friendship.

--

The next day at work, Sofia was in a mad rush.

It was the weekend, and her customers were like a hungry mob of zombies bulldozing each other to grab a table. Johny had also stationed up a ladder, fixing the name board at the front while his disciple was in the kitchen seeing what was wrong with the stove. And Sofia ran about everywhere, solving one issue after another, from calming the crankiest customer to smashing the old pervert caught peeking inside Poppy's skirt.

At some point when the rush hour died down, Simmy went out to have some fresh air and a break from the smoke, heat, and spicy smell of the kitchen. She had just crossed the threshold when the name board crashed down on her. The poor woman was sent sprawling to the floor with the name board covering half her body. Chaos broke out after that as the staff along with Sofia and some of the kindhearted customers rushed to Simmy's rescue.

They were about to call an ambulance or something, but Simmy insisted that she was quite alright, and even proved it by kicking a nonchalant Johny into the guts.

"You should have at least pretended as though you were sorry, you dumb-ass." Simmy bellowed, bent over Johny's writhing body.

Customers of Mary's Diner were enthralled by the drama.

It was past ten when all the cooks and waitresses had left after cleaning. Sofia was preparing for closing.

The bell chimed then signaling a customer's arrival.

From the counter, Sofia informed, "We're closed."

The person who entered, however, seemed not keen on getting her words right as they still stood silent behind her, and after a moment of silence cleared their throat.

Sighing, she whirled around with the intent of politely getting rid of the late-night customer. But she stood speechless instead at the sight of Neil grinning and with his eyes—wildly gesturing beside him, towards Max.

Her heart stood still for a moment there.

He had come to her diner!

But it looked like Max was shocked too, and when the initial shock wore off he turned to glare at a mischievous-looking Neil.

Uh-oh!

The dear cousin Neil had clearly pulled one here. It seemed like Max wasn't actually aware that this diner was hers and his apprehension that it turned out to be hers was pretty much clear as well.

The smile on Sofia's face faltered a bit. Max's expression was quite disheartening. He looked like he would prefer to be anywhere else but here—like he was about to flee.

Proving her suspicion right Max was about to turn around, but Neil was quick to grab hold of his older cousin.

"Now, now, where you going, bro?" Neil chuckled. "I'm damn hungry and so are you, and our Sofia here is one of the best cooks in the city. So let's just settle our asses over there and give into our grumbling stomachs, huh."

Max said something incoherent under his breath and although Sofia could not hear it—she wasn't dumb to not sense that it was in all ways negative and perhaps downright insulting, too. Nevertheless, she brushed it off. He had a fair reason to be mad at her.

And probably this was her chance to melt that anger away!

It is a well-known saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Sofia was suddenly thrilled at the idea.

So, she braved a smile on her face and ushered the men to a booth by the window. "You guys wait a bit, okay? I'll cook your favorites."

"You know well about our favorites, don't you?" Neil winked, discreetly waving his hand towards Max who looked devoid of any emotion.

"Of course, I know," she said slowly, glancing briefly at Max. "I've always known."

Max blinked, eyes narrowing at her.

The smile on her face dropped.

Dejectedly Sofia went into the kitchen. For the next half an hour she became a flurry of activities, cooking fast but efficiently—two grilled chicken breasts covered with pepper jack and cheddar cheese finished off with some BBQ sauce. She also managed to dice up a dish of onion salad.

Sofia could still strongly remember Max's love for grilled chicken. She recalled how he once took her to Nandos, for the next week after that he didn't stop praising the West Indies' way of marinating and grilling chicken with finesse. She had loved watching the pure excitement in those dark, seductive eyes.

When she was done she tucked the stray hairs behind her ears and exhaled a long breath, satisfied at how the food tasted and looked. She just hoped Max would love it too.

But when had fate ever favored her?

Her face fell when she lifted the lids from over the dishes and still nothing changed of Max's stoic expression.

If possible, he turned more rigid.

Neil had at first leaped in excitement seeing the food laid before them, but it didn't take him long to catch on to Max's latest robotic disposition as well. "What? It's your favorite, bro!"

Sofia squirmed standing awkwardly by the table.

Max let out a crisp sigh, and bit the inside of his cheek. Stretching his lips to a forced smile he glanced at Neil across the table.

"Not anymore, Neil," Max said calmly, his smile intact and chilling Sofia to the bones. "I stopped being a fan of such cholesterol-inducing food, realizing that people must get rid of bad choices at some point in life. However, seeing as the pile of cholesterol is served already, I'll refrain from sending it back. We're getting late after all and I'm exhausted."

Then, totally ignoring Sofia and the obvious hurt look on her face which she fought like hell to cover up, Max began eating, chewing each morsel looking like he was chewing iron in real.

Neil sent an apologizing look to Sofia, his earlier excitement clearly deflated. The guy had just failed to unite his cousin with his high school friend.

And Sofia felt like she was getting a dose of her own medicine.

Rejection — it felt like poison.

For the next half an hour or so, Sofia sat behind the counter pretending to be checking the bills, although they were sorted out already. She just needed to keep herself busy, fearing that otherwise her eyes would betray and go on to stare at the tall monster who was royally ignoring her.

He looked smug now, probably feeling cheery at the desired hurtful effect of his words on her. His hints were distinct and deadly.

What remaining hope Sofia had—began drowning.

Max paid for the food. She wouldn't lie about feeling the humiliation when he made a shooing motion when she tried to protest.

Neil stopped by to give her a comforting side hug and a whispered apology in her ear while Max just strolled lazily out of the diner.

With a defeated feeling gripping her insides Sofia also exited after them but stayed back to lock the doors of the diner. She was taken by surprise when she turned around.

Max stood in front of her, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his slacks.

Sofia peeked over to see Neil hopping inside the car but not before winking at her, she also noticed that Neil was beaming again.

What was it that changed in a minute?