Amara's POV
The airport buzzed around us, but my heart felt strangely heavy. Today wasn't just about a new city or a new job—it was about leaving the life I had built here, and leaving him.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Vihaan said, appearing beside me, a travel mug in one hand and his calm presence in the other. "Couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye properly."
I tried to smile, but it faltered. "You didn't have to… I mean, it's just a two-year assignment."
"Just a two-year assignment?" he echoed, lifting an eyebrow, though the corners of his lips softened. "That's still two years without seeing you every day. I can't let that happen."
Before I could respond, Jia appeared, practically flying toward us with her oversized backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Don't even think about crying, Ama," she said, frowning in mock seriousness. "If you're going to sob, I'll have to handle the tissues—and trust me, I don't share."
I laughed softly, and the tension eased for a moment. "Jia… I'll miss you too."
"I know," she whispered, tugging me into a tight hug. "But you're going to do amazing things. And guess what? Adrian promised he'll be annoying me with updates about you too. You're not allowed to sulk alone."
Vihaan smiled, slipping his hand around my waist, anchoring me in the middle of our little family triangle. "See? You've got your sister, and you've got me. You'll never be alone, Ama."
The check-in counter called for my boarding. My hands trembled as I held my passport and ticket. Vihaan leaned closer, his voice soft and grounding. "I'll be there the moment you need me. Call me, message me, anything. You're not alone in this, Ama. I swear."
Jia squeezed my hand, her own eyes misty. "Promise me one thing?" she asked. "That you'll make him give you all the kisses and comfort he owes you before you leave."
I chuckled through the tears. "I promise."
Vihaan pulled me into a warm, protective hug. "Go chase your dreams," he murmured against my hair. "I'll be cheering for you every step of the way."
"I'll miss you," I whispered, holding onto both him and Jia.
"You'll have me visiting," he said softly, "and Jia will keep me updated. Two years isn't forever."
Boarding time came, and with a final squeeze, Jia whispered, "Be safe, Ama. And call us the moment you land. We'll miss you too much otherwise."
I nodded, tears pricking, feeling the weight of their love and support. Hand in hand with Vihaan, our little trio shared a final moment before the inevitable goodbye, a promise that distance could never break the bond we had.
A new life:
The city stretched endlessly outside my apartment window, buzzing with life and lights that seemed both intimidating and exhilarating. For the first time, I was truly on my own—no familiar streets, no comforting voices, just me and the pulse of a city that demanded courage.
The first morning, I wandered to the local café near my apartment, taking in the aromas of fresh coffee and the hurried chatter of early commuters. Every street corner felt like a puzzle to solve, every face a new story. I smiled faintly at the thought—this was my adventure.
Work started the next day, and the office was a whirlwind of introductions, schedules, and deadlines. My new colleagues were polite, helpful, and efficient, but it was up to me to find my rhythm. I quickly realized that every decision, every report, every small task would shape my first impression.
By the end of the week, the initial nerves had settled into a quiet confidence. I navigated the subway without wrong turns, ordered lunch without hesitation, and even contributed meaningfully during meetings. Yet, late at night, when the apartment grew quiet and the city lights dimmed, I felt the tug of my heart—the thought of Vihaan, calm and protective, somewhere miles away. I missed him, yes, but the pang was bittersweet. I knew this independence was something he wanted me to embrace.
One evening, after a particularly hectic day, I leaned against the window, watching the city lights shimmer like distant stars. For the first time, I felt a flutter of pride—this was my life now, my choices, my pace. And though I longed for the familiar warmth of Vihaan's presence, I also realized that love didn't need proximity to thrive.
I whispered to the empty room, "I'll make you proud… Vihaan."
And somewhere in the quiet hum of the city, I felt like I could actually do it—stand tall, explore boldly, and grow into this new chapter, carrying his love with me as my guiding light.
New Challenges:
The second week at work started with a jolt—a client presentation I hadn't fully anticipated. My heart raced as I adjusted my blazer, glanced at my notes for the tenth time, and stepped into the conference room.
"Good morning, Ms. Salvatore. We're eager to hear your strategy," said the client, a tall woman with sharp eyes that seemed to dissect every move.
I took a deep breath, recalling Vihaan's calm voice from our walks, his quiet confidence, and the way he made challenges feel manageable. "Thank you for having me. I've prepared a detailed plan addressing your goals, timelines, and projected outcomes," I began, my voice steady but my hands betraying a slight tremor.
As I moved through the slides, I noticed subtle nods from my team. Encouragement, silent but grounding. By the time I finished, the client was smiling. "Impressive work, Ms. Salvatore. Your clarity and attention to detail are exceptional."
I exhaled, relief washing over me like a tide. My cheeks tingled, half from nerves, half from pride. I couldn't help but picture Vihaan's grin, that calm reassurance in his eyes, and I wished he could see me now.
The week unfolded in a whirlwind of meetings, calls, and small victories. I navigated subway routes, learned the best lunch spots, and even managed a minor hiccup with a project timeline. Every solved problem added a layer of confidence I hadn't known I possessed.
It's been two weeks now. We talked via voice as well as video calls. Every time we timed the video, he looked tired; he is a workaholic indeed. If he hadn't had anything else to do, he would work without any second thought. I never dared to say I miss him, because Jia told me there was a rush. He is managing the whole firm alone, and he is needed there more than here. If I ever told him, I miss him, although he knows that, he would do everything to get here even if he had to work twenty-four hours straight.
With these thoughts, I took the taxi and reached my apartment just to see him sitting on the couch. I screamed like I saw a ghost and stood frozen there.
"Vihaan?!" I stammered, my hands trembling as I backed away slightly.
Before I could say anything else, he came and poked his lips against mine softly, deliberately, as if testing the waters of my surprise. My knees weakened, and my hands flew to his shoulders, holding on as if to anchor myself to reality. Then whispered, "I missed you."
"I missed you, too," I replied, and a tear fell from my eye.