Amara's POV:
Exams are in the corner, so I started spending my time more at the library than at home. Stacks of notes, highlighters scattered like fallen petals, the faint tick of the old wall clock—every night blended into the next. Of course, it broke the continuity of our dates, but Vihaan knows how to meet someone he wants. Of course, he is a lawyer. Jia, unlike me, is a cool student who never panics but is still a topper, but she is also terrified because, to be honest, she gave all of her time to her dating life. Don't ask me about Adrian; he is freaking out just by looking at the syllabus. But somehow, we are all managing to perform well.
The night before my final paper, my phone lit up with his name."Good luck charm," the caller ID said.
"Hey, you can wish me there as well," I answered, rubbing my tired eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Ama," his voice was low, apologetic. "I just got called out of the city for an urgent meeting. I can't be there in the morning to wish you in person."
A pinch of disappointment settled in my chest, but I forced a smile he couldn't see. "It's okay. Don't worry about it,"
"I hate missing this," he murmured. "But listen to me…you've done everything. You're ready. And I'll be thinking of you every single second. Call me the moment it's over."
His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket."You'd better answer when I call," I teased softly.
"Always," he said. "Get rest, and kill it."
When the final exam morning came, his absence tugged at me, but his voice echoed in my mind with every answer I wrote.
The exam went well; the ambiance was quite different, maybe because it was the last time we came as students to attempt our exams.
Graduation Day
A week later, the campus sparkled with festivity for graduation.Friends clicked endless photos, caps tilted and gowns swishing, laughter spilling everywhere.I tried to bottle it all—the sound, the light, the sense that we were standing right at the edge of something bigger. I was happy, but equally sad because of what would come after this. I have to leave the city, leave my family, home, and Vihaan.
My friends hugged me tight, our black gowns swaying as we posed for endless photos.It should have felt perfect—yet a quiet ache pressed behind my ribs. I kept catching myself looking for him.
Then I turned toward the main steps—and there he was.
Vihaan, in a white shirt, tugged in his beige pants, holding a lily bouquet in his hands, and a smile on his face. Sometimes, I think, why is he so calm about our separation? Why does he never seem to be affected? For a heartbeat, I couldn't move. Then I was running.
"You made it," I whispered, the words breaking halfway.
He wrapped me in his arms, warm and steady. "I wouldn't miss this for anything."
I felt the sting of tears, but I didn't care. I pressed my face against his shoulder, breathing him in."Thanks," I said softly, "Thank you for coming."
The camera clicks and laughter around us faded. It was just us—his arms around me, my heart steadying against his.
"Congratulations, Ama," he whispered, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "I'm so proud of you."
I held him tighter, knowing this moment had to last. Soon we'd be in different cities, counting down days. But right now, with the scent of lilies and the sound of his heartbeat, it felt like nothing could break the promise between us.
Later that evening, the house was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Jia walked in with two mugs of hot chocolate, her hair in a messy bun and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"Graduation girl," she announced, handing me a mug and flopping onto the bed. "How does it feel to be an official grown-up?"
"Overrated," I said, curling my fingers around the warm cup. "Ask me again after my first paycheck."
She grinned. "First paycheck, first big city job, and… two years away from lover boy."The tease in her voice was unmistakable.
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't start."
"Oh, I'm just getting warmed up," she said, leaning closer. "Did you cry when he couldn't show up this morning? Be honest."
"I did not," I protested, though my ears betrayed me with heat. "He sent a sweet voice note."
"Aha!" Jia clapped once, triumphant. "Voice notes now. Next thing you know, he'll be mailing you handwritten love letters scented with lilies."
I threw a cushion at her. "Says the girl whose 'study partner' carries extra jackets just in case someone forgets one."
Her cheeks flushed pink. "That was one time."
"Uh-huh," I drawled. "One heroic, cross-city, coat-buying mission of love."
Jia groaned, hiding behind her mug. "Adrian is just… Adrian."
"Adrian is a walking 'burn-the-world-for-you' energy drink," I shot back. "I've seen how he looks at you, Gracie."
Her head snapped up. "Gracie?"
I smirked. "He calls you that, doesn't he? I heard it once. Don't even try to deny it."
She buried her face in a pillow, muffling a squeak. "I hate you."
"Nope," I said, tugging the pillow away. "You love me. And you love the way he says Gracie."
"Fine," she admitted in a whisper, then jabbed a finger at me. "But you're still worse. You nearly tackled that angry woman for Vihaan. Hero of the century."
"That lady was out of control," I said, laughing. "Someone had to defend him."
"Sure, Ama. Totally about justice. Not because you'd throw down with anyone who even looks at him wrong."
I leaned back, feigning innocence. "Maybe. Maybe not."
We both cracked up, our laughter filling the room until we were breathless.
"Seriously though," Jia said when we finally calmed, "he'd rather wait two years than see you give up your dream. That's rare."
My chest tightened with a mix of pride and ache. "I know. And I'm going to miss you the most. Who else will roast me like this at midnight?"
"Video calls," she said promptly. "And a steady stream of memes. You'll block me after week one."
I bumped her shoulder. "Never."
For a while, we just sat there, sipping what was left of our hot chocolate, teasing until the house settled into quiet again—two sisters wrapped in laughter, secrets, and the kind of love that no distance could touch.
Jia fell asleep, but I couldn't, because something in my head is not still.
"Walk? Outside." A message from Vihaan popped up.
I ran outside, grabbing a scarf and a coat, cause this was something I wanted at this moment. A quality time with him.
He was waiting at the gate, hands in pockets, that calm, sure presence that always found me no matter how the day had spun.
"Still not tired?" I teased as I reached him.
"Not when there's one more walk to take," he said, a quiet smile in his voice.
We set off down the sleepy street. The excitement of the day seemed to fade behind us with every step—no more applause, just the hush of streetlights and the distant hum of late traffic. His hand found mine, steady and warm, and for a while we simply listened to the echo of our own footsteps.
He finally spoke. "Jia said she heard you laughing earlier. Must've been a good talk."
I gave a small smile. "She was teasing me about you. Again."
"Good things, I hope."
"She says I'd start another street fight for you."That earned a low, warm laugh from him, a sound that made my chest tighten.
"You made it," he said softly, as though the words were meant only for the night air. "Top of your class. I'm so proud of you."
I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding. "It feels… huge. And still, I keep thinking about what's next—and how far away it is."
He squeezed my hand. "Two years isn't forever, Ama. I'll visit every chance I get. We'll make the distance small."
I nodded, though the knot in my chest wouldn't loosen. "I know. I just—today felt like the end of a world I love. This city. My people. You."
We paused beneath a lone streetlamp. He turned to me, eyes steady. "You're not leaving me," he said quietly. "You're chasing what you worked so hard for. That's part of us, too."
The words steadied me, yet the ache still pulsed. I wanted the night to stretch wider, to hold us in this soft in-between.
"Walk me a little farther?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
His smile was gentle, sure. "As far as you want."
And so we kept walking—hand in hand, each slow step an extra heartbeat to hold onto the day, the city, and the quiet certainty that even distance couldn't touch what we had.