A strange tightness coiled in Priya’s chest.He remembers.
“I thought you were some kind of dream,” he said, lifting a strand of her hair. “Funny how memories work. I blocked out so much when I left—but this one just came rushing back.”
Priya felt something shift inside her, the carefully placed bricks of her defenses crumbling, one by one. The past felt close enough to touch, when her whole world had revolved around him—every fleeting glance, every casual smile analyzed and stored away like something precious.
But that was a lifetime ago.
She had moved on, or at least tried to. She had built a life, watched it unravel, and now, somehow, she had ended up right back where she started. The bittersweet weight of it all settled in her chest, tugging her back to reality.
Priya slipped the jacket off her shoulders with a casual shrug. “Thanks, but I don’t do leather,” she said, forcing lightness into her tone. “And honestly? You probably shouldn’t wear it around Puppa either. We’re big on nonviolence toward animals.”
“My apologies.” Ethan snatched the jacket back and balled it up behind his back. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Priya suppressed a twinge of guilt. Sure, her family was all about the vegetarian lifestyle, but they never,everforced their views on anyone else. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures. And if ghost stories weren’t going to shake Ethan up, she needed to kick things up a notch, make his stay as uncomfortable as possible. She needed him out of here, and fast. Every day Ethan stuck around meant more money trickling into the renovation fund. The sooner she got rid of him, the better the chances of Moksha closing for good.
“No worries,” Priya tossed over her shoulder as she started to walk away, a sly grin curling on her lips. “It’s just your first day.”
But as her steps carried her toward the door, a strange shift in the air caught her attention. It was subtle but undeniable. She could feel Ethan’s gaze on her, making her skin prickle. Without thinking, she turned toward the window, catching his reflection just in time. There he was, his eyes on her, watching her every move.
A thrill shot through Priya’s veins. She wasn’t the awkward teenager he’d left behind, stumbling over her words and hiding in baggy clothes. She was all grown up, and judging by the way Ethan was looking at her, there was no question he had noticed.
Priya turned her head away, biting back the grin that threatened to break free. Ethan was right—the early May breeze still carried a chill despite the sunlight—but she barely felt it. A rush of elation flooded her, and she let herself bask in its glow. But Ethan’s presence wasn’t just complicating her plan to shut down Moksha. It also put her at risk of falling for him again—his soulful eyes, his heart-melting smile, his rock-solid shoulders…
Lost in a lust-induced stupor, Priya didn’t see the low-hanging branch until it smacked her square in the face. The stinging sensation felt like a swift slap, reminding her of her place.
Don’t reach too high.
Don’t think too big.
Don’t dream beyond your station.
Rubbing her cheek, she let herself into the apartment and checked the time. The evening loomed before her like a heavy cloud. She had to accompany her parents to an event she desperately wanted to avoid. But now that she was back home, the net of familial obligations tightened around her, leaving no room for escape.
Priya slipped into the flowing skirt of her chaniya, adjusting the waistband until it fell gracefully around her ankles. Easing her arms through the sleeves of her choli, she fastened the hooks in the front, taking care not to snag the fabric. Reaching for the dupatta, she draped it around her shoulders and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her outfit gleamed with jeweled tones of blue and magenta, the sheer dupatta glittering with beadwork. Priya debated whether to leave her midriff exposed. The style complemented her figure, but the Solanki Modesty Meter wailed like a police siren in her head. Her family’s measure of acceptable attire distinguished “good girls” from “bad girls.” The strange thing was that no one had actually sat her down and laid out these rules. She justknew. And somehow, her divorce had raised the bar even more. Cover up your skin. Cover up your flaws. Cover up your failure.
“Priya, beta?” Mumma knocked on her door. “Ready to go?”
“Do I have to?” Priya groaned as she let her mother in.
Mumma looked at her disapprovingly. “It’s not up for debate. You know how much we owe Anandji. We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him. Now come on,fastum fass.”
When it came to Anand Sharma, not only did Mumma addji, but she also resorted to language curry—English words sprinkled with Gujarati spice. Regular speed wasn’t fast enough for Anandji. It had to be “fastum fass.”
“But Mumma, we don’t belong in Anandji’s circle.” Priya raised her arms as her mother rearranged the dupatta, tucking it into the waistband of her skirt to cover her stomach.
“That may be so, but when Anandji calls, we go. End of story. I know this isn’t something you want to do, but it’s not easy for us either. Everyone knows you’re divorced and back home. We can’t avoid them forever, so we might as well face it and be done with it.” She stepped back, giving Priya a once-over.
“Don’t you have something less flashy?” She started toward Priya’s closet but changed her mind. “There’s no time to fuss now. I need you to drop off Mr. Ethan’s dinner tray before we leave.”
Priya’s pulse quickened. She could still feel Ethan’s eyes lingering on her hours later, as if they had been burned into her skin. Shaking off the thought, she reached for a set of bangles and slid them over her wrists, one by one. Placing a golden bindi on her forehead, she brushed a lock of hair away from her face, her tresses cascading in inky waves down her back.
As Priya finished up, she noticed her mother watching her with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong, Mumma?” she asked.
“I can’t believe how fast time has gone by,” Mumma said. “I remember watching you get ready for school like it was yesterday. But four years at university, five with Manoj, and another justpassed…” She paused, her expression dimming with a quiet sadness. “Priya, you’re far too young to be divorced.”
Priya adjusted her earrings, glancing at her mother. “Are you giving me the green light to start dating?” she teased.
