A Latte of Love

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Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Thank you so much for indulging your time into this book. We really appreciate all your comments and votes on every chapter. It certainly enlightens our day. Along with college and real-life stuff, we are trying our best to update this book as much as we possibly can. We don't have any explicit or mature scenes and we try our best to keep the content as clean, wholesome, insanely cute, and funny as we possibly can. We both believe the best love stories are those that are subtle and pulls on your heartstrings, small moments that keep you up at night, feel-good stories displaying sweet and innocent affection between two people destined to be married.

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I pinch my nose with one hand while drenching the paper towel in my other, to wipe the bed sheets full of urine.

Give us grandchildren, they say.

Babies are so cute, they say.

Until they wet the bed.

And start crying.

I scrunch up my face as I throw the paper towel into the garbage. I huff, staring down at him in annoyance. His eyes are still puffy and drenched with tears. I give him a weird look and flop my dark hair around. His eyes enlighten slightly at the sight. I shake my head a little more aggressively which makes him giggle and kick his legs in the air.

He was diaper-less for three hours since his last poop and still managed to use the bathroom. For those three hours I had been studying maniacally for my English test and completely forgot about his bladder complications.

And I had just understood what Shakespeare meant by "The world's mine oyster."

I had considered leaving Ahmed in the other room with my parents. They adore him, but mama has mild insomnia and I didn't want to ruin her already terrible sleeping schedule. I try my best to take care of him myself. Leaving Ahmed with my parents while I'm at work is more than enough for me.

I helplessly stare from my desk that's scattered with test notes and highlighters to Ahmed lying on his back, playing with his tiny socks.

I'm going to fail.