Sid stood by the tall glass window of the office tower, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape below. The hum of distant traffic and muted voices from the floor behind him blurred into an indistinct backdrop as he raised his glass of wine to his lips. The crimson liquid swirled lazily in the dim light before disappearing with a soft sip.

The promotion he had worked tirelessly for danced tantalizingly on the horizon, a reward for countless late nights and relentless dedication. Yet, as he thought about the recognition he'd earned and the accomplishments he'd gathered over the years, an emptiness gnawed at the edges of his mind—a question that refused to be silenced. Was this all there was? The climb, the accolades, the seemingly unending pursuit of "more"?

Sid felt the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him, heavy and suffocating. His reflection stared back at him from the glass, a shadow of the man who had once braved the world with so much certainty. Unsatisfied, restless, lost. After another sip, he placed his hand against the cool windowpane for support, his breath clouding the glass as he whispered to himself, almost pleading, "What am I doing?"

The silence answered him, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to linger in it.

The shrill ring of Sid’s phone shattered the quiet sanctuary of his thoughts. He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the glass of wine before reaching for the phone. The caller ID made him roll his eyes—his mom. He exhaled heavily, knowing exactly what awaited him on the other end of the line.

Before he could muster a greeting, her voice spilled forth, charged with frustration. "I’m tired, Sid. Tired of people asking me about your marriage! You're thirty already. How can I die in peace knowing my son is still unmarried?"

Sid winced at the familiar refrain and retorted with a hint of irritation, "Can I at least say 'hi' before you start the drama, Mom?"

Unfazed, her tone softened as she tried a different tack. "I know you're busy, but you need to give it some thought. Swati—she’s crazy about you. She’d love to meet you this Diwali." When Sid remained silent, her voice grew gentler. "We only want the best for you, son. You need to take a break, think about your life and happiness."

He sighed and replied calmly, "Yes, Mom."

As the call ended, Sid’s gaze fell back to the remnants of wine swirling in his glass. He placed the phone down and leaned against the desk. Her words hung in the air, tugging at a corner of his mind. With a half-smile, he muttered to himself, "She’s right. I do need a break." The smile lingered, faint and reluctant, as he stared at the cityscape beyond the office window, his thoughts wandering to an uncharted horizon.

The night was still, illuminated only by a soft silver glow of the moonlight. Sid sat on a blanket spread across a surreal garden, surrounded by lush greenery that shimmered unnaturally. His body leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out, as he took in the mesmerizing scene around him. Everything felt almost too perfect, like a dream delicately painted in vibrant strokes.

A woman appeared in the distance. She moved like a whisper across the garden, her silhouette radiating an ethereal beauty. Sid’s gaze softened as she approached, his heart tugged by an indescribable feeling. She stopped just before him, her features remaining tantalizingly vague, as though the mist of the dream kept her face hidden. Yet, she felt familiar—like a melody he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place.

Sid extended his hand toward her, a subtle smile curving on his lips. She accepted it, warmth radiating from her touch as she perched gracefully on his lap, her arms encircling his neck. For a moment, the world quieted into a still embrace. Sid cupped her face gently, his heart racing as his emotions swelled. He leaned closer, his eyes searching hers in an unspoken connection.

But just as their lips were about to meet, the scene shattered into fragments. Sid awoke abruptly, the remnants of the dream slipping through his fingers. His breaths were quick, and his chest rose and fell as he sat upright, the bed sheets tangled around him. Running a hand through his damp hair, he couldn’t help but smile, his pulse still pounding.

It was only a dream, yet it had shaken him to his core. Sid chuckled to himself, wondering how something so fleeting could awaken such excitement within him. As he stood and made his way to the shower, the images of the garden and the mysterious woman lingered in his mind, like fading stars after dawn.

It was a day of triumph for Sid. The office buzzed with excitement as the CEO announced his promotion, offering a warm congratulation that left Sid surrounded by applause and smiles. Yet, as the CEO concluded with news of a late-night party celebrating Sid’s success—and his final day in the office—a pang of confusion swept over him. Shocked but unwilling to disrupt the moment, Sid masked his turmoil behind a forced smile.

Once the crowd dissipated, Sid marched into his boss’s cabin with hurried steps and a furrowed brow. Without hesitation, he blurted, “What’s the meaning of ‘last day in this office?’”

The boss, calm and composed, stood and handed Sid a glass of water. His gaze softened as he gestured to a chair. “Sit down,” he said, his voice steady.

Sid obeyed, his grip tense around the glass. As he settled in, his boss leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “Sid, this was always the plan. Area managers begin their role by taking charge of smaller areas. Since this is your hometown, you should find the transition easy,” he explained.

Sid’s mind wrestled with the response. He shook his head lightly, unable to accept it. “What’s the point of going back to where I started?” he questioned, his tone clipped.

The boss met his eyes with a knowing look and offered a half-smile. “Exactly, Sid. It’s the circle of life—you return to where it all began.”

Sid rolled his eyes, frustration spilling into a single word. “Seriously?”

His boss shrugged, opening his arms as if to welcome perspective. “Why worry? It’s temporary. A few months of work and then you can request relocation.”

Sid remained unconvinced. Taking a small sip of water, he muttered under his breath, “Ain’t no way I’m staying in that small town.” The words hung in the air like defiance.

With renewed determination, Sid placed the glass forcefully on the table. For a fleeting moment, his gaze lingered on the man he once thought held his trust. Then, without another word, Sid rose, turned sharply, and strode out of the cabin. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving his boss in silence and Sid’s thoughts ablaze with the weight of an uncertain future.

Sid was buried deep in work, his fingers racing across the keyboard as he struggled to complete the handing-over process before the impending move to the other office. The ticking clock seemed indifferent to his plight—it was already evening when Den, his closest friend, strode into the cabin.

"You're not ready yet?" Den’s voice broke through the clatter of the keyboard. "We’ve got your farewell party tonight at the club."

Sid paused briefly, his lips curling into a wry expression. "Sounds more like a funeral to me," he muttered, the dissatisfaction of relocating to a small town weighing heavily on his mind.

Den stood there, silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Sid. Then, with measured calm, he said, "You know, life has a way of surprising us. Sometimes, we miss those surprises because we're too focused on... well, something that doesn’t matter."

Sid’s fingers hesitated on the keyboard. For the first time in hours, his eyes shifted from the glowing screen to Den’s face. There was something about his friend’s words—simple, yet piercing in their truth.

Den grinned, slapping Sid’s bicep lightly. "Take a break, bro." And with that, he turned and left the cabin.

Sid leaned back in his chair, letting Den’s words settle in his mind. A quiet smile tugged at his lips. "I’ve been wanting a break anyway," he thought. Maybe this move—this change—was exactly the kind of breather he needed. With newfound resolve, he began to pack up his things, readying himself not just for the party tonight but perhaps for the new chapter life was offering him.

Sid stepped into the club, the dazzling lights and pulsating music enveloping him as he followed his friends inside. "Didn't expect the boss to bring us here," he thought, taking in the opulent surroundings. "This place must cost a fortune."

They made their way to a private room, where the night unfolded in a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and carefree dancing. Sid, as always, let himself get lost in the rhythm, the music washing over him like a wave. But then, something unexpected caught his attention, pulling him out of his reverie. His gaze dropped, curiosity piqued, as he saw a hand with long pink nails cupping his crotch. As she gave it a little squeeze, a sharp groan escaped him, the sound raw and involuntary. His legs faltered beneath him, threatening to give way. Confusion clouded his mind, and the only words he managed to utter were a bewildered, "What the...?" His voice was barely a whisper. Slowly, he turned his gaze over his shoulder, his breath hitching as the scene before him began to unfold.

Sid turned, his gaze landing on a young woman standing nearby. She wore a confident smile, her presence commanding attention. Before he could process the moment, his boss's voice rang out, "How's your farewell gift, Sid?"

Sid shifted his focus from his boss to the woman, who stood close, her demeanor playful yet poised. He laced her waist and pulled her close, only to see a mischievous smile on her face. His friend Den clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "Enjoy, bro," he said, before exiting the room with the others, leaving Sid and the woman in the room.

Sid gently brushed her hair away from her face, his voice soft as he asked, "What's your name?"

"Rhea," she replied, her tone calm yet captivating. Their proximity was undeniable, and he could sense the warmth of her presence. He moved his face closer to hers, her warm breath made his emotions feel heightened.

He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the connection between them. Tasting her sweetness he moved back only to find the same bliss on her face. Rhea stepped back, her expression shifting to one of playful defiance. With a sudden push, Sid found himself landing on the couch behind him, a surprised laugh escaping his lips.

He sat back with his legs wide open, he watched as Rhea moved gracefully, her energy lighting up the room. Her confidence and charm were magnetic, leaving Sid both amused and captivated by her spirited presence.

The music swirled around her as she moved with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly. Each step, each turn, drew Sid deeper into her spell. He watched, captivated, as her movements mirrored the rhythm, her presence commanding the room.

But then, Alcohol kicked in and wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt. When his eyes refocused, there she was—the woman in the white dress from his dreams. Her face remained a mystery, veiled in the haze of his imagination, but her presence was unmistakable.

Just like in his dream, he extended his hand toward her. She stepped closer, her movements deliberate and graceful, and placed her hand in his. The connection felt surreal, as though time itself had paused. She leaned in, her arms encircling his shoulders, and he cupped her face, the moment stretching endlessly.

Sid felt a strange mix of wonder and trepidation, as though he were caught between reality and the echoes of a dream. He held onto the moment, afraid it might slip away, leaving him with only questions and the lingering memory of her enigmatic presence. Without giving it a second thought he captured her lips, feeling the warmth and sweetness of her mouth through his tongue. He continued like this is the end of time, tracing every inch of her mouth. With his eyes closed he lived his deepest fantasy in the moment.

Sid wished he could linger in this moment forever, enveloped in the dreamlike haze that surrounded him. Yet, a nagging curiosity tugged at his heart. Who was she? He pulled back, his eyes searching for the face of the angel who had graced his dreams. But as the mist dissolved, reality came rushing in with cruel clarity. The girl in his arms wasn’t the ethereal figure from his dreams—it was Rhea.

His expression shifted, the wonder and warmth draining from his face as regret seeped in. The kiss they’d shared, the intimacy of the moment—it felt wrong, unnatural. Rhea’s face fell as she caught the change in his demeanor, her excitement turning to heartbreak. Before she could speak, Sid pushed her out of his lap, his movements abrupt, his breathing uneven as he stood. His legs faltered, a stumble betraying the turmoil within.

The room felt stifling, his emotions boiling over. He spotted Rhea, who stood rooted in place, tears glimmering in her eyes. Pointing toward the door, his voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. “Leave,” he ordered, his gaze hard. Rhea hesitated, then fled, sobbing quietly as she disappeared beyond the doorframe.

Sid collapsed onto the couch, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. Anger surged, a storm he couldn’t contain, and in his fury, he lashed out—his foot connecting with the coffee table. Glasses shattered, the sharp sound echoing through the room like a cruel reminder of his loss of control. "fu*k" he whispered burying his face in his hands, rubbing his forehead as frustration warred with disbelief.

The morning sunlight painted the room in golden hues, but for Sid, it wasn’t an ordinary day. He moved with a sense of finality, carefully packing the last of his belongings into suitcases that now stood like sentinels of change. His mind, however, was adrift in the foggy memories of the previous night. The hangover throbbed at his temples as he muttered to himself, “Why did I do that? What was I thinking?”

It wasn’t the first time he had enjoyed a moment with a beautiful young lady, but something about last night lingered, bittersweet and raw. “She was stunning,” he thought, frustration prickling at the edges of his regret. “Why did I push her away? Lost such a great chance of...…” The question hung in the air, unanswered and heavy.

That girl—his farewell gift. The memory of his boss presenting it with exaggerated enthusiasm made him chuckle. “A fortune wasted on nothing.” he murmured, shaking his head.

After zipping the last suitcase, Sid sank onto the edge of his bed. For a moment, he sat still, gazing out through the window at the towering skyline that had become a part of his life. The city hummed with the rhythm of a world he would soon leave behind. He sighed, a pang of nostalgia catching him off guard. “I’ll miss this place,” he whispered, thinking about the quiet little town that awaited him—a stark contrast to the chaos he had come to embrace.

Taking a deep, deliberate breath, he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Alright, Sid,” he said, his voice steadying, “time to go home.” The words felt strange and unfamiliar, yet filled with resolve. His new chapter was about to begin.

The amber liquid in Sid’s glass swirled as he took one last sip, savoring the faint burn that traveled down his throat. A familiar bitterness lingered—not from the drink, but from the thought gnawing at him. His boss had managed to arrange an escort, yet a business-class flight ticket seemed like an impossibility. The company, as always, fell short of his expectations, leaving him with that sinking feeling of disappointment.

He placed the empty glass down with a sigh, pulling his phone from his pocket. A few swipes later, he tapped on his brother Rishi’s number. The phone rang only once before Rishi’s cheerful voice cut through the line.

“Sid, congratulations on your promotion! I’m so happy for you,” Rishi greeted, his enthusiasm unmistakable.

“Thanks, brother,” Sid replied, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile. “You know, sister-in-law can’t wait to share all the office tea with you,” he added, chuckling softly. The playful remark held an air of affection, a glimpse of companionship in their otherwise busy lives.

Rishi laughed. “she's my bestie afterall. But tell me, have you shared the news with Mom yet?”

Sid’s breath hitched slightly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his phone case. “Yes... but no,” he admitted, exhaling heavily. “She knows about the promotion, but not about me moving back home.”

On the other end, Rishi chuckled knowingly. “You’re trying to avoid drama, aren’t you?” he said, his voice warm with understanding.

“Exactly,” Sid replied, a trace of pleading evident in his tone. “Just a few months, no chaos—I can’t deal with it right now.” His words hung in the space between them, a quiet request for patience and support.

“Don’t worry, brother,” Rishi reassured him. “Take good care of yourself.”

With a soft “umhmm” in response, Sid ended the call. Alone once more, he leaned back into his seat, thumb scrolling idly through his phone. The airport buzzed faintly in the background, a steady hum of arrivals and departures. As he waited for his flight, he found himself caught between the weight of the life he was leaving behind and the uncertain steps of the journey ahead.

Sid stepped onto the plane, scanning the rows for his seat. His eyes landed on a girl occupying the window seat, her head tilted as if in sleep. Her long chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her milky skin and delicate pink lips. Though clearly an adult, her features carried a youthful charm that caught Sid's attention. A gentle nudge from the passengers behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. He realized she was sitting in his seat—and pretending to sleep to keep it.

Sid leaned closer, his voice firm but polite. "Excuse me, ma'am, this is my seat." When she didn’t respond, he lightly shook her shoulder. "Miss, please move to your own seat."

The girl stirred, faking confusion as her eyes fluttered open. Her voice, soft and melodic, carried an apology. "I'm sorry, I feel nauseous during flights. My seat is this one," she said, pointing to the aisle seat beside her. Her puppy-like eyes pleaded with him, but Sid wasn’t ready to give up.

"Listen," he began, his tone unwavering, "I checked in early to get this seat. If you don’t move, I might just land on your lap, considering the crowd behind me—"

Before he could finish, the air hostess appeared, her bright smile and professional demeanor cutting him off. "Is there a problem, sir?" she asked, her short skirt and high heels adding to her polished appearance.

Sid’s mind raced. He could spend more time chatting with the air hostess if he took the aisle seat. Without hesitation, he turned to her and said, "No problem at all. We're just settling here." He slid into the aisle seat, leaving the girl in the window seat.

The girl stared at him, her disbelief evident. "Pervert," she muttered under her breath, adjusting herself in her seat. Sid pretended not to hear, taking a deep breath before turning to her. "See? I’m a good guy. I gave up my seat so you could be comfortable."

She tilted her head, her expression unimpressed. "Right," she replied curtly, her gaze shifting to the window. Sid’s eyes lingered on the strands of hair falling across her face, then moved to her lips. He shook off the thought, reminding himself she wasn’t his type.

Extending his hand, he introduced himself. "I’m Sid, by the way."

She hesitated before shaking his hand. "Piya," she replied.

"Nice name. You’re going to—?"

"Where the flight is going," Piya interrupted, her tone flat. She plugged in her earphones and closed her eyes, signaling the end of their conversation.

Sid leaned back, deciding not to engage further with this fiery personality. His attention shifted to the air hostess, who was now giving safety instructions. Her eyes met his briefly, and she blushed at his charming smile. Sid couldn’t help but grin back, enjoying the fleeting connection.

Piya found herself wandering through a garden that seemed to have been plucked straight from her heart’s desires. The air was laden with a misty glow, caressing each leaf and flower with a delicate shimmer. She walked to her favorite plants, the vibrant hibiscus intertwined with the graceful monstera, each thriving under her careful, loving touch. Her fingertips grazed the tender leaves, tracing the veins as if they held secrets only she could decode.

The peacefulness of the garden was intoxicating, a sanctuary she had cultivated with every ounce of her soul. Yet the serenity was broken by the faint sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot. Her attention snapped to the direction of the noise, her gaze piercing through the mist. A figure emerged—a man whose face slowly became clear as the fog dissipated. Sid.

Shock surged through her like a sudden gust of wind. The serenity shattered into fragments, dragging her abruptly out of the dream. Piya woke with a start, the seatbelt pressing uncomfortably against her waist as she adjusted herself on the airplane seat. She turned her head toward the seat beside her—empty. Sid was nowhere to be found.

"That b*stard," she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling within her, "wouldn't even let me enjoy my dreamy garden."

Straightening up, she glanced around, her mind still caught in the tailwinds of the dream. The dull hum of the airplane engines reminded her of reality. She needed to clear her head. Rising to her feet, she steadied herself and made her way toward the washroom, yearning for the cool splash of water to wash away the lingering remnants of the dream—and Sid’s unwelcome appearance in it.

The dim overhead light cast shadows against the confines of the airplane’s restroom as Piya splashed cold water on her face. It was the kind of cold that stung, that reminded her of her pale skin—a testament to her health struggles, the pesky haemoglobin deficiency that seemed to follow her like an unwelcome companion. She pressed her fingers to her face, tracing the sharp contours, feeling the hollowness in her cheeks. Her reflection stared back, an unspoken reminder of the fragility she wished to escape.

With a resigned breath, she wiped her face, folded the paper towel, and turned to open the door. But the corridor outside threw her into an entirely different kind of despair. Her steps faltered as she froze in place, her gaze fixed on the couple tangled in an embrace just a few feet away. Sid—and the air hostess she’d seen earlier, locked in a passionate kiss that burned against the sterile backdrop of the airplane cabin.

Piya’s stomach churned, a wave of nausea threatening to spill over. Romance, affection, devotion—they were concepts that never had a home in her heart. but this? She didn’t want to linger, didn’t want to even comprehend the image scorched into her brain. Yet her legs betrayed her. They remained rooted until Sid, catching his breath amidst the kiss, glanced her way. His face dropped in an instant, his expression shifting from ecstasy to guilt.

Her body jolted into motion. Turning sharply, Piya quickened her pace, determined to put as much distance between herself and the scene as possible.

Sid stood motionless, his gaze fixed on Piya as she walked away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The distant hum of an airplane echoed in his ears, a sharp reminder of arrival.

The girl in his arms broke the silence, her voice smooth and deliberate as she said, "Call of duty." Her words seemed to pull him back to reality. He released her waist without hesitation, and she moved with an air of confidence, adjusting her dress with practiced ease. Before stepping away, she slipped a small contact card into the pocket of his jacket. Her fingers lingered for a brief second, and she looked up at him with a faint, enigmatic smile.

Sid responded with a half-smile of his own, a mix of resignation and intrigue playing on his lips. As she turned and vanished, he shifted his focus and began making his way toward his seat.

Back in her seat, piya's chest tightened, her heart hammering against her ribs. She struggled to compose herself, forcing her breathing into steady rhythm. What had she just seen? She couldn’t reconcile the image. But the stranger in her memory felt poisonous. Men are poisonous. The thought anchored her as she buckled her seatbelt, the loudspeaker crackling overhead with the captain’s landing announcement.

A presence settled beside her, pulling her attention briefly from her thoughts. She didn’t need to look; she knew it was him. Sid’s silence spoke volumes as he leaned back, mirroring her posture. Her fingers tightened on the armrest, her mind chanting an affirmation like a prayer: Soon this will end. Soon I will walk away, and I will never meet this man again.

She pressed her head into the backrest, closing her eyes as she let the vibration of the descent soothe her frayed nerves.

Sid stepped out of the airport, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a familiar figure. Yash was there, as lively as ever, holding up a nameboard that read, in bold letters, "Mr Dickhead." Sid's curious expression shifted into one of exasperation, his friend's eccentric humor managing to elicit both amusement and irritation in equal measure. It didn't help that the girls nearby were giggling, clearly entertained by Yash's antics.

Sid approached him, shaking his head before grabbing Yash by the neck in a playful mock-fight. “You crazy pig!” Sid exclaimed, his tone half-scolding, half-laughing. “Who lets you out of the stable?”

The two tussled like brothers reunited after years apart, their laughter blending into the hum of the airport bustle. The girls watching giggled even harder, their amusement evident. But Sid’s joviality didn’t last. His eyes drifted to the side, where he caught sight of someone—Piya. She was stepping into a cab at a distance, her presence pulling him out of the moment entirely.

His grip on Yash loosened, and his posture stiffened, his hand moving instinctively to straighten his jacket. Memories of the awkward encounter with Piya on the flight flooded his mind, and with them came a wave of embarrassment. His expression grew solemn, lost in thought.

Yash noticed the change immediately. Following Sid’s gaze, his eyes landed on the girl disappearing into the cab. He turned back to his friend with a mischievous grin. “Oh yeah,” Yash teased, slapping Sid’s bicep lightly. “My friend hasn’t changed a bit. So, how was that girl? Did you two hit it off in the flight or what?”

Sid’s jaw tightened, his face still etched with seriousness. “She’s not like that,” he muttered, his tone firm, almost defensive.

Sid placed a hand on Yash’s shoulder, cutting off further questions. “Let’s go home,” he said quietly. “I need to rest.”

Without another word, the two climbed into Yash’s car, leaving the airport—and the lingering memory of Piya—behind.

Sid watched the streets pass by, each one carrying the weight of his memories. Nostalgia clung to him as he gazed at familiar landmarks—the temples, the library, the creekside, and every single café where he and his friends spent countless hours, laughing, dreaming, planning their futures.

“They’ve developed so much,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on his old school as they drove past.

Yash, hands steady on the wheel, scoffed. “They never considered developing when we were enrolled.”

Sid let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “What can be done? At least we made real memories, compared to today’s generation.”

Yash smirked. “We made memories, bro. You only made girlfriends.”

Sid turned to him, mock offense on his face. “As if you didn’t play around in high school! Remember that time you made us drink on the terrace while the teachers were hunting for us?”

Their laughter filled the car, echoes of their mischief washing over them like a tide of youth revisited. Soon, they pulled up in front of Sid’s home.

Stepping out, Sid inhaled deeply, taking in the sight of the house he hadn’t seen in years. He moved towards the trunk, grabbing his luggage, but his gaze was drawn across the street to the playground—its rustling trees, its familiar uneven ground.

“How many windows did we break playing cricket here?” he mused, half-smiling at the memory.

Yash chuckled. “I only remember you breaking hearts.”

Sid shot him a look. “I never break hearts.”

“Oh, you can’t say that,” Yash interrupted, stepping forward and gripping Sid’s shoulder. He turned him towards the playground and pointed to a bench tucked away in the park’s corner. “That’s exactly where we sat when you borrowed my phone to break up with Neha.”

Sid rolled his eyes, recalling the moment. “I used your phone because my mom had taken mine after the whole Neha scandal.”

“Don’t change the topic! We’re talking about you breaking hearts, not losing phones,” Yash said, feigning frustration.

Sid ignored him, moving towards the house and unlocking the door. Yash shook his head with a grin before heading towards the car, pulling out food and drinks—ready to savor the long-awaited reunion with the friend who had finally come home.

Sid stepped into his home, the familiar warmth embracing him instantly. He glanced around, pleasantly surprised by how well his mother had maintained everything. Nothing felt too unfamiliar—except the weight of time pressing against his memories.

The evening passed in carefree brotherhood . He and Yash battled it out in video games, devoured slices of pizza between laughter, and while drinking they exchanged stories about where life had taken them. It felt like old times, a brief escape into the simplicity of youth.

Yash finally left around nine, leaving Sid alone with his thoughts and exhaustion. The long flight and endless hours of traveling weighed on him, and before he knew it, he had drifted off on the couch.

The sharp chime of the doorbell cut through his half-conscious state. With a groggy groan, he forced himself up, frustration simmering in his drowsy mind. He stumbled toward the door, barely awake, and yanked it open with more force than necessary.

“Did you forget your brain here, crazy pig?” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep, not bothering to look up.

But the moment his gaze lifted, his exhaustion vanished.

Standing before him, clad in pajamas, was Swati. She held a lunchbox in her hands, her expression unreadable.

Sid’s features stiffened. His breath hitched slightly as unease settled in his chest. He knew this wasn’t just a casual visit. Something was coming, something he wasn’t sure he was ready for.