The following weeks were a storm of activity. Ashburn spent more time in Kainat's new kitchen branch than anywhere else. The place still smelled of paint and raw wood, yet hope already filled the air. Big cauldrons stood lined against the wall, burners were being installed, and the sound of workers hammering echoed through the hall.
He had promised Kainat seventy thousand rupees, and he meant every word. That sum went into new utensils, better storage, and a clean signboard above the entrance—"Hope Meal Point – Branch 2." Watching her walk among the workers, eyes sharp but warm, made him realize how far she'd come since the first day.
"You're handling this like a pro," Ashburn said, handing her the list of purchased supplies.
Kainat smiled, wiping sweat from her forehead. "And you're spending like one. Are you sure this isn't too much?"
"It's investment, not spending," he replied softly. "If one kitchen feeds a hundred, two will feed two hundred. It's worth every rupee."
Her eyes softened. "Still… thank you."
He chuckled. "If you start thanking me now, I'll open ten kitchens just to hear it again."
She rolled her eyes but laughed. It was that brief laughter that made the long days lighter.
While Ashburn devoted his mornings to Kainat's project, Aisha held the fort at both Khan Karyana branches. She had taken full control of the paperwork—purchase records, delivery slips, expense ledgers, Khata accounts—and managed them with uncanny precision. Whenever an issue arose, she handled it before Ashburn could even hear about it.
One afternoon she called him. "Your second branch had a delayed shipment again," she reported briskly. "But don't worry—I spoke to Horizon's supply desk. They've rescheduled for tonight."
Ashburn nodded through the line. "Good work. Did they say why the delay happened?"
"System upgrade on their side," she replied. "And before you ask—I've already adjusted the inventory sheets."
He smiled faintly. "Remind me again why you're not running the company instead of me?"
"Because you pay better tea bills," she teased, hanging up.
That evening, he visited the main shop. The Khata system was flourishing. Customers came, noted purchases, and signed neatly into the new digital register app that Aisha had refined. Each entry carried name, number, address, and payment cycle. People who once struggled daily now carried baskets with quiet dignity, knowing they could settle their dues at month's end.
One old man handed Ashburn his phone. "See, beta, my name's here too," he said proudly, showing the digital receipt. "No more torn pages!"
Ashburn grinned. "Technology works best when hearts trust it."
Behind him, Aisha stood arranging shelves, pretending not to hear—but she smiled too.
Two Weeks Later
With the kitchens stabilizing and Khata gaining traction, Ashburn finally turned toward expansion. The second branch, though profitable, could do more. He reviewed the ledgers one late night, a single bulb flickering over his desk.
Ten lakh. That's what I can move right now, he thought. Enough to double the stock, maybe rent a small delivery van, and still keep reserves to keep Khata breathing if payments slow.
The next morning he met Aisha at the second shop. The place was buzzing with customers, but half the shelves still carried limited variety.
"We're going to scale up this one," he told her while checking the racks. "More rotation, faster restock. Horizon already has our list—they'll handle the logistics. You just make sure nothing piles up."
She frowned slightly. "That's a big order. You sure the area can handle that much product flow?"
He nodded. "The sales trend says yes. And the delivery van will give us reach—doorstep service for bulk buyers. It's time we think ahead."
Within days, Horizon's trucks began arriving like clockwork. Their drivers unloaded crisp, labeled packages directly into the shop's storeroom. Locals gathered outside, whispering about the new stock and the familiar green-stamped cartons.
"Seems Khan Karyana's gone fancy," someone said.
Ashburn smiled, standing beside Aisha as workers hauled sacks inside. "Not fancy—efficient."
"Efficient looks rich," she murmured under her breath, amused.
He only grinned. "Then let's look richer tomorrow."
By evening, the rented white van arrived. The logo was simple yet striking: "Khan Karyana Delivery – Trusted by Families." Children chased it down the street, giggling as the horn beeped twice.
Ashburn leaned against the shutter, arms crossed, watching the sunset glow over the new paint. "We're not just surviving anymore," he said quietly. "We're building something that'll stand even when we're not here."
Aisha looked at him, her voice gentler than usual. "That's what you always wanted, isn't it?"
He turned slightly, eyes still on the horizon. "Something honest, that grows without breaking people. Yeah."
The Balance of Growth
As days passed, business smoothed into rhythm. Aisha managed both shops, overseeing deliveries and customer feedback while maintaining the Khata system. Ashburn divided his time—mornings at Kainat's kitchen, afternoons inspecting shops, evenings analyzing reports.
Whenever he visited Kainat's new branch, she'd have something new to show him: improved cooking stoves, better seating, or more volunteers. One day, she even showed him a large blackboard with "Daily Free Meals – Thank You Donors" written in bold chalk.
He laughed softly. "You're turning this into an empire of kindness."
"And you're financing half of it," she replied, smiling.
"Temporary loan," he said. "You'll pay back with biryani."
"Deal," she said, grinning.
But Aisha noticed his long absences. Though she never said anything directly, a subtle irritation hid behind her professionalism. She worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, and often stayed until midnight updating ledgers. Whenever someone mentioned Kainat's kitchen, her tone stiffened just slightly.
Late one night, she closed the register and muttered under her breath, "Charity's good… but someone has to keep the business running."
Still, she never let emotions interfere. Every morning, she greeted customers with a confident smile, made sure deliveries arrived on time, and trained two new assistants to help with paperwork.
Ashburn appreciated it deeply. He saw it in the improved numbers, in the quiet efficiency of both branches. Each Khata entry was handled with accuracy; customer complaints dropped; profits rose steadily.
When the week finally ended, Ashburn sat alone in his office chair, exhausted but content. The last three months had been a whirlwind—partnerships, expansions, challenges, and silent wars fought through patience rather than aggression.
He closed his eyes briefly and smiled. "Step by step," he whispered. "It's working."