“Ourspot, huh?” Ethan’s grin got wider.
“Shut up,” Priya mumbled, her face burning.
“Why don’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That I get under your skin.”
“Oh, fuck off, Heathen.” Priya kept her tone playful, but his comment hit too close to home. She wrapped her shawl tighter, trying to brush it off, but Ethan noticed the shift in her mood.
“I’m sorry I bailed without saying goodbye,” he said, cutting straight to the reason for Priya’s hurt. “I was young and stupid, and that night was a lot harder than I let on.”
Ethan’s words made Priya realize something she’d never thought of before. While she’d been drowning in her own sadness that night, Ethan had been dealing with the weight of leaving behind his whole life—his home, his family, everything he knew.
His apology touched a part of her that had never healed. It wasn’t just the sting of being overlooked or seeing him with someone else in a place she’d always thought was theirs. It was the way he’d disappeared, as if she’d meant nothing to him. Meanwhile, he’d been more than her first crush. He’d also been her friend. At least that’s what she’d believed—but then he was gone. Without any warning. Taking that spark with him, leaving her to deal with the quiet emptiness left in his wake.
“Don’t sweat it,” she said. “I’ve been swearing at everything and everyone tonight.”
“What’s got you so fired up?”
Priya sighed and hugged her knees. “Let’s just say I stirred the pot at this party my parents dragged me to.”
“Ah, Priya 2.0 strikes again.” Ethan grinned. “Go on.”
“I danced with Ravi Tiwari.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
“He’s the local catch, the most eligible man around, and I’m a divorced woman from a different caste.”
“Caste?” Ethan asked. “You mean like a different religion?”
“Same religion, but like a different group, once separated by occupation and status,” Priya explained. “Those divisions don’t officially exist anymore. We’re all supposed to be equals now, but when it comes to things like marriage, they creep back in. My parents wanted me to marry within our caste too.”
“So, your ex was the same caste as you?”
“Yes, Manoj is Dalit too. We were called ‘untouchables’ back in the day and assigned jobs considered impure for others. A lot has changed, though the echoes of that past still remain. There was a time when my great-grandparents were denied entry to schools and temples. By the time my grandparents were born, they could go to school but had to sit in the back of the classroom and couldn’t drink from the same well as the other kids.”
“Wow, that’s crazy,” Ethan said, his expression tightening. “I didn’t even know something like that existed. I’m sorry your family had to go through that. Sounds like it’s left a mark, even if things are different now.”
“It was abolished before my parents were born, although most people from our community can still identify their caste.” Priya sighed. “My parents believe that caste is tied to past-life karma. If they don’t fulfill their duties in this life, they won’t move up the scale in their next one.”
“That’s…wild,” Ethan said, letting out a slow breath.
“Right?” Priya nodded. “But not everyone sees it the way my parents do. My dad’s friend, Anandji—the one whose daughter’s sangeet we attended tonight—is from a higher caste, and he’s always encouraging my father to think beyond the Dalit label.”
“So, what kinds of jobs were Dalits traditionally expected to do?” Ethan asked.
“Things like cleaning sewers, collecting garbage, looking after the dead,” Priya replied. “My dad’s family used to take care of last rites in their village in Gujarat. They’d wash and wrap the body, place it on the pyre, and watch over it until the fire burned out. After Anandji lost his grandmother, my dad helped him through a rough patch, and they’ve been friends ever since. When Anandji moved to Canada, he helped my father get a work permit and start a new life. My father stuck to what he knew, so here we are, still in the funeral business. It’s funny how some things never change.” Priya grew quiet, then let out a soft laugh. “You should have seen Shrutiji’s face when I danced with her son.”
“Shrutiji?” Ethan asked.
“Ravi’s mom,” Priya explained. “Honestly? I didn’t mean to cause a scene, but yeah, not my finest moment.”
“Well, serves you right for abandoning your station in life,” Ethan declared.
“My station in life?” Priya blinked.Did Ethan just take a page out of my parents’ playbook?
