07-08-2026, 12:57 PM
Ayesha’s phone beeped, dragging her out from the world of her data. Her
office materialized, her desk, the computer screens with the command
prompt and all the clever code she’d written, her windows, the darkness
beyond them.
The alert on her phone said, “Dinnertime.”
She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a protein bar. Her mother would
be angry if she saw Ayesha eating one of these for dinner, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted to work.
Absently chewing on the cardboard-y chocolate mixture, she made small
adjustments and refinements in her algorithm. It was good. Maybe some of
her best work.
Her phone buzzed, and the screen lit with a text message from Aditya.
Is that your office on the 3rd floor with the lights on at 6PM on a Saturday?
She dropped her protein bar and stood up to look out the window.
A familiar form leaned against a lamppost in the parking lot. She immediately dodged out of view, too humiliated to be seen.
Her phone buzzed with another message. Come down. We need to talk.
She sank back into her chair. This was it.
He’d come to end it.
Her thumbs shook as she composed a short response.
Just tell me via text message.
I want to talk to you in person.
She threw her phone onto her desk and crossed her arms.
She was tired and embarrassed.
She didn’t need to witness the dissolution of their
arrangement in person.
Or were there additional things he wanted to talk to
her about? More things she’d done wrong?
Maybe she shouldn’t have apologized to his mom?
Had that been creepy
and intrusive?
Why couldn’t she get anything right?
She ran her hands over her hair and attempted to slow her breathing.
Did she have to apologize for apologizing?
The phone buzzed yet again, and she flipped it over with the tip of a
trembling finger so she could read it.
I’m going to stay out here until you come down.
She rubbed at her temple.
Her head throbbed, and sweat glued her clothes
to her body. She needed to go home and shower.
Might as well get this over with.
She tossed her once-bitten protein bar into the trash, saved her work, and
powered down her computer. Tossing her purse over her shoulder, she shut
the lights off and left the room.
The empty halls and low-lit cubicles usually comforted her. Tonight, they
made her lonely and sad. As she strode to the elevator, she wondered how
long it would be before this feeling went away. A week? A month? She
wished everything could go back to normal—like before she’d met Aditya.
These highs and lows in emotion were exhausting.
The click of her heels on marble echoed through the reception area, and
she made herself push the front doors open and walk outside.
Aditya shoved away from the lamppost and dug his hands into his
pockets, looking like his usual gorgeous self in the glow of the streetlights.
“Hi, Ayesha.”
“Hi, Aditya.” Her chest tightened and began aching.
She drummed her fingers against her thighs until
she caught him watching and fisted her hands.
“My mom told me you stopped by the shop.”
That was it. She’d really done the wrong thing. Her heart plummeted, and
her face threatened to crumple.
“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t bear knowing I’d hurt her.
I never mean to hurt people, but I do it all the time. I’m working on fixing this,
but it’s so complicated, and I just—I just—I just . . .”
He stepped toward her until they were separated by an arm’s length.
“What are you talking about?”
She stared down at her shoes. She was so tired. When would this be over
so she could go home and sleep? “You’re angry. Because I went to see your
mom. That’s intrusive.”
“I’m not, actually.”
She lifted her gaze and found him watching her with sad eyes. “Then . . . I
don’t understand.”
“As your practice boyfriend, shouldn’t I be here? It’s getting late.”
She took a surprised breath. “After everything I said at your mom’s, you
still want to have a practice relationship with me?”
“Yeah. Things are complicated with my family, and I should have prepped
you ahead of time. I’m sorry I didn’t think to do that.”
When he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, she was
too stunned to speak. He was apologizing to her?
“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
She tensed at his nearness, unsure what to do. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t remem—oh, I ate something right before you texted.”
“What was it?”
She was not telling him. He’d probably act like her mother and chastise
her. That was the last thing she needed right now.
He brushed his fingers along her jaw before clasping her face in his palm
and tipping her head back. A butterfly-light kiss teased her lips. “You smell
like chocolate. Did you have candy for dinner, Ayesha?”
“Not candy. A protein bar. There are vitamins and stuff in it.”
“You’re coming with me. Don’t argue. I’m going to feed you.” He walked
her to her car, which was parked not far away, and by that time, she was
simply too tired to protest.
The doors unlocked when they sensed the key fob in her purse, and she sat
in the passenger seat. She fumbled for the seat belt, but he caught it and
buckled her in with sure movements. He got in on the other side and pulled
out of the parking lot.
The motion of the car lulled Ayesha into a drowsy half slumber, and it was
several minutes before she realized he’d left downtown and headed across the highway. “Where are we going?”
“Back to my mom’s.”
A surge of adrenaline burned the sleepiness out of Ayesha’s head, and she
sat up in her seat, wide awake. “What? Why?”
“There’s a lot of food there. My mom had me cook for like a hundred
people last night.”
She adjusted her glasses as her heart started ramping up for takeoff. “I’d
really like to go home.”
“Do you have anything to eat at your place?”
“I have Greek yogurt. I’ll eat it. I promise.”
He shook his head as he released a tight huff of breath. “I’ll feed you quick
and then take you home.”
Before she could think up a suitable response, he pulled into the driveway
of the little gray house. When he opened the door, she could hear the same
music carrying faintly on the wind. She gripped her seat belt like a lifeline.
“I can’t handle the TV tonight,” she confessed in a pained whisper. After
last night, her usual tolerance was gone. She’d fall apart and scare everyone.
Aditya would change his mind about the arrangement—she still couldn’t
believe he didn’t want to cancel. Or he’d start walking on eggshells around
her, which was worse.
“Hold on a minute.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and typed in
something on the screen.
Within moments, the music stopped.
“You made them turn it off? Won’t your mom and grandma be unhappy
they can’t watch their shows?” Her entire body flamed with embarrassment.
She despised it when people had to make changes for her.
He gave her a funny look. “It’s just TV.”
“I don’t like it when people have to act differently for me.”
“We don’t mind.” He walked around to her side, opened the door, and held
his hand out. “Will you come in?”
office materialized, her desk, the computer screens with the command
prompt and all the clever code she’d written, her windows, the darkness
beyond them.
The alert on her phone said, “Dinnertime.”
She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a protein bar. Her mother would
be angry if she saw Ayesha eating one of these for dinner, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted to work.
Absently chewing on the cardboard-y chocolate mixture, she made small
adjustments and refinements in her algorithm. It was good. Maybe some of
her best work.
Her phone buzzed, and the screen lit with a text message from Aditya.
Is that your office on the 3rd floor with the lights on at 6PM on a Saturday?
She dropped her protein bar and stood up to look out the window.
A familiar form leaned against a lamppost in the parking lot. She immediately dodged out of view, too humiliated to be seen.
Her phone buzzed with another message. Come down. We need to talk.
She sank back into her chair. This was it.
He’d come to end it.
Her thumbs shook as she composed a short response.
Just tell me via text message.
I want to talk to you in person.
She threw her phone onto her desk and crossed her arms.
She was tired and embarrassed.
She didn’t need to witness the dissolution of their
arrangement in person.
Or were there additional things he wanted to talk to
her about? More things she’d done wrong?
Maybe she shouldn’t have apologized to his mom?
Had that been creepy
and intrusive?
Why couldn’t she get anything right?
She ran her hands over her hair and attempted to slow her breathing.
Did she have to apologize for apologizing?
The phone buzzed yet again, and she flipped it over with the tip of a
trembling finger so she could read it.
I’m going to stay out here until you come down.
She rubbed at her temple.
Her head throbbed, and sweat glued her clothes
to her body. She needed to go home and shower.
Might as well get this over with.
She tossed her once-bitten protein bar into the trash, saved her work, and
powered down her computer. Tossing her purse over her shoulder, she shut
the lights off and left the room.
The empty halls and low-lit cubicles usually comforted her. Tonight, they
made her lonely and sad. As she strode to the elevator, she wondered how
long it would be before this feeling went away. A week? A month? She
wished everything could go back to normal—like before she’d met Aditya.
These highs and lows in emotion were exhausting.
The click of her heels on marble echoed through the reception area, and
she made herself push the front doors open and walk outside.
Aditya shoved away from the lamppost and dug his hands into his
pockets, looking like his usual gorgeous self in the glow of the streetlights.
“Hi, Ayesha.”
“Hi, Aditya.” Her chest tightened and began aching.
She drummed her fingers against her thighs until
she caught him watching and fisted her hands.
“My mom told me you stopped by the shop.”
That was it. She’d really done the wrong thing. Her heart plummeted, and
her face threatened to crumple.
“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t bear knowing I’d hurt her.
I never mean to hurt people, but I do it all the time. I’m working on fixing this,
but it’s so complicated, and I just—I just—I just . . .”
He stepped toward her until they were separated by an arm’s length.
“What are you talking about?”
She stared down at her shoes. She was so tired. When would this be over
so she could go home and sleep? “You’re angry. Because I went to see your
mom. That’s intrusive.”
“I’m not, actually.”
She lifted her gaze and found him watching her with sad eyes. “Then . . . I
don’t understand.”
“As your practice boyfriend, shouldn’t I be here? It’s getting late.”
She took a surprised breath. “After everything I said at your mom’s, you
still want to have a practice relationship with me?”
“Yeah. Things are complicated with my family, and I should have prepped
you ahead of time. I’m sorry I didn’t think to do that.”
When he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, she was
too stunned to speak. He was apologizing to her?
“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
She tensed at his nearness, unsure what to do. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t remem—oh, I ate something right before you texted.”
“What was it?”
She was not telling him. He’d probably act like her mother and chastise
her. That was the last thing she needed right now.
He brushed his fingers along her jaw before clasping her face in his palm
and tipping her head back. A butterfly-light kiss teased her lips. “You smell
like chocolate. Did you have candy for dinner, Ayesha?”
“Not candy. A protein bar. There are vitamins and stuff in it.”
“You’re coming with me. Don’t argue. I’m going to feed you.” He walked
her to her car, which was parked not far away, and by that time, she was
simply too tired to protest.
The doors unlocked when they sensed the key fob in her purse, and she sat
in the passenger seat. She fumbled for the seat belt, but he caught it and
buckled her in with sure movements. He got in on the other side and pulled
out of the parking lot.
The motion of the car lulled Ayesha into a drowsy half slumber, and it was
several minutes before she realized he’d left downtown and headed across the highway. “Where are we going?”
“Back to my mom’s.”
A surge of adrenaline burned the sleepiness out of Ayesha’s head, and she
sat up in her seat, wide awake. “What? Why?”
“There’s a lot of food there. My mom had me cook for like a hundred
people last night.”
She adjusted her glasses as her heart started ramping up for takeoff. “I’d
really like to go home.”
“Do you have anything to eat at your place?”
“I have Greek yogurt. I’ll eat it. I promise.”
He shook his head as he released a tight huff of breath. “I’ll feed you quick
and then take you home.”
Before she could think up a suitable response, he pulled into the driveway
of the little gray house. When he opened the door, she could hear the same
music carrying faintly on the wind. She gripped her seat belt like a lifeline.
“I can’t handle the TV tonight,” she confessed in a pained whisper. After
last night, her usual tolerance was gone. She’d fall apart and scare everyone.
Aditya would change his mind about the arrangement—she still couldn’t
believe he didn’t want to cancel. Or he’d start walking on eggshells around
her, which was worse.
“Hold on a minute.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and typed in
something on the screen.
Within moments, the music stopped.
“You made them turn it off? Won’t your mom and grandma be unhappy
they can’t watch their shows?” Her entire body flamed with embarrassment.
She despised it when people had to make changes for her.
He gave her a funny look. “It’s just TV.”
“I don’t like it when people have to act differently for me.”
“We don’t mind.” He walked around to her side, opened the door, and held
his hand out. “Will you come in?”
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