I rolled my eyes and turned back to lock the door. Now we’re walking slowly down the street.
The evening air is warm but not uncomfortable, the sky fading into that soft purple color that only appears right before the streetlights flicker on. Somewhere nearby someone is frying something spicy and the smell drifts lazily through the air.
Aditya walks beside me with his hands tucked casually in his pockets.
Every few seconds I can feel him glance at me. Not in a way that feels invasive. Just curious. Maybe amused. Like he’s still processing the fact that our lives somehow ended up like this. I clear my throat and break the silence. “You are enjoying this far too much.”
He looks at me, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Enjoying what?”
“Encouraging my brother’s delusional matchmaking project.”
He laughs quietly. “That child is terrifyingly persuasive.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“Maybe I’m just easily influenced.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You grabbed your wallet before he even finished the sentence.”
Aditya shrugs lightly. “I’m a man who respects organized plans.”
“Organized?” I repeat incredulously.
“He had a list.”
“That was not organization, that was emotional manipulation.”
He laughs again. The sound is warm and unrestrained. I notice something strange then. I like the way he laughs. It makes him look younger somehow. Less serious. Less controlled. And I like that he laughs so easily in my company, or maybe that's how he is with everyone, I don't really know many people in his life.
We keep walking. The ice cream stall is only a few blocks away, but neither of us seems to be in a hurry to get there.
Aditya glances sideways at me. “So,” he says thoughtfully, “the official mission is an ice cream date.”
“Please stop calling it that.”
“That’s literally what it says on the list.”
“You read that list far too carefully.”
“I’m a detail-oriented person.”
“I am beginning to see that,” I huff quietly and look away.
The streetlight ahead flickers on. Our shadows stretch long across the pavement. After a moment he speaks again, his voice softer this time. “Divya.”
I glance at him. “If you’re really so against this,” he says gently, “we don’t have to do it.”
His tone is completely different now. No teasing. No humor. Just quiet sincerity. “If this makes you uncomfortable,” he continues, “I don’t want to force you into something silly just because Neel wrote it down.”
Something about the softness in his expression catches me off guard. The way he’s looking at me—careful, attentive, like my comfort genuinely matters to him. For a second I almost do something ridiculous. Like hug him. Which would be incredibly inappropriate considering we are standing in the middle of the street. And obviously that he's my arranged husband. I shake the thought away and look down at the pavement.
“No,” I say quietly. He waits. “I’m okay with it.” I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“It’s just…” The words get stuck somewhere in my throat. He doesn’t rush me. Just walks beside me patiently. I take a slow breath. “I’ve never been on dates before.”
The confession comes out quieter than I intended. Aditya’s footsteps falter. He stops walking. I take two more steps before realizing he isn’t beside me anymore. When I turn around he’s standing a few feet behind me staring like I just announced I’ve never seen the sun before.
“You’ve never been on dates?” His voice sounds genuinely shocked.
