As their gazes caught, the moment stretched—charged, weighty, and peaceful all at once. Priya’s heart hammered in her chest. Something was shifting between them.
For a second, it felt like their younger selves were right there, giving them a push to own this connection. They had come fullcircle—from kids escaping to this hidden spot to adults who had made it back to each other through all of life’s twists and turns.
The rusty walls around them, the train tracks swallowed by wild plants, the pages of Ethan’s screenplay, all seemed to dissolve. But then Priya’s phone went off, shattering the moment.
“It’s Manoj.” She sighed, silencing the call. “Probably work stuff.”
She tried to move past the interruption, but the phone buzzed again.
“Persistent little fucker,” Ethan muttered, glaring at the screen.
Priya frowned. “Actually, it’s Ravi now. How the hell did he get my number?”
“What’s with all these guys making cameo appearances?” Ethan grabbed Priya’s phone and sent Ravi to voicemail. “The lead role’s been cast, and spoiler alert—it’s me.”
He was about to mute the phone when it chimed with a new notification. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he growled. Then he paused, his brow furrowing. “It’s a message from your sister Deepa,” he said, handing the phone back to Priya.
Priya glanced at the message preview:This is Dinesh. Curious, she tapped it open and read the rest:Mumma and Puppa met with him and his family today. Heads up—they asked for your number.
The image took a second to load, then filled the screen. Dinesh stood in the center, looking as wholesome as a matrimonial ad—tidy hair, friendly smile, very “good boy” energy. On his right were, presumably, his parents, and on his left, her own. Mumma clutched his arm like he was already family, and her father was grinning, eyes crinkled at the corners. As Priya stared at the photo, a wave of déjà vu washed over her. Her parents had given Manoj the same stamp of approval, praised his ambition, his charm, and how he would “secure her future.”
“You okay?” Ethan asked, grazing her arm with his fingers.
“Meet Dinesh.” Priya angled her screen so he could see the photo. “My parents’ latest attempt to fix my life. They think being with the right man will magically solve everything.”
Ethan looked at her phone for half a second, his expression tightening. Then he pried it from her hand and turned it face down. “Enough interruptions, Priya. We need to talk. I know we both agreed this was just a fling, but let’s be honest…there’s something more happening here.” His eyes searched hers, his voice rough around the edges.
Priya’s throat tightened as the words hung between them. “I know,” she said softly. “But do you actuallywantsomething more? With me?”
Ethan held her gaze, steady and unwavering. “More than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. Being with you feels solid. It feelsreal, Pri. And I’m not ready to walk away from that. Question is, doyouwant to take this further?”
“I do,” Priya admitted, drawing in a shaky breath. “But I don’t know how to handle this—my family, your fame…” Her gaze dropped as she continued. “I mean, even if I say yes to us, I can’t handle the attention that follows you. The press would be all over me. If we don’t work out…that’s another failure I’ll have to carry. My divorce already feels like a black mark against me, and this would be so much more public. So much harder to escape.”
“I get it.” Ethan reached for her hand, his grip warm and grounding. “I know how scary this feels, but I think we deserve a chance. Arealone. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I’ll be right here with you for all of it. The messy parts too. You don’t have to go through it alone, Pri. I may not understand everything you’re facing, but I know what it’s like to choose between what you want and what’s expected of you. I’m paying for that choicemyself.” His gaze drifted toward his father’s home. Then he turned back to her. “We can figure it out together—you and me. Whatever happens, I can promise you that.”
Priya rested her head on his shoulder and let out a soft sigh. She wasn’t used to leaning on anyone else. As the eldest daughter of immigrant parents, she carried more than just her own dreams. She was their firstborn, the one meant to pave the way for her sisters and justify the sacrifices her parents had made. Their hopes and struggles were all tied to her choices.
But here, in this quiet little pocket of time with Ethan, she could justbe—be seen, held, and understood. She had three whole days with him before her parents came back. Enough time to figure things out. She closed her eyes, soothed by the soft murmur of pages as Ethan flipped through his script again. Every detail—the hum of insects weaving through sun-dried stalks, the sun-heated metal of the freight car under her legs, the distant call of birds—etched itself into her mind.
“Do you think we’re happy when we get what we want because we finally have it, or because the wanting is over?” she mused.
Ethan glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “A bit of both, I’d say. Why?”
“Because right now, I don’t want anything else.”
“Oh, just wait,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got a whole list of things that’ll have you begging for more before the night’s over.”
Priya let out a soft laugh. “Being proven wrong has never sounded so good. How did I get so lucky?” She whispered the last part to herself, as if speaking the words any louder would jinx things.
Ethan flipped the final page, pausing for a long moment before setting the screenplay down.
“Any good?” Priya asked.
“It’s better than good. It’s absolutely brilliant. But the real question is…” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Areyoudone?”
“Done with what?” she asked.
“Thinking about your app,” he teased, playfully tapping her forehead. “Thinking about your parents. Thinking about us. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking…”
