Tia arrived next, fashionably late as always. She stepped in like the evening air followed her—poised, stylish, a carefully measured calm about her. Yet when she spotted them, her face softened, and she bent down to stroke Freddo before hugging Abhay with surprising warmth.
“So this is real?” she asked, looking around the table. “We actually pulled it off?”
“For now,” Abhay said, smiling faintly. “Until someone bails at dessert.”
“Fair,” she said, taking her seat, though a small flicker of hesitation lingered in her eyes, as though she wasn’t sure how much of herself she wanted to bring back.
Then came Riyan.
The door flew open and he entered with mock applause. “Wow. The nostalgia circus is in town. Should I start crying now, or wait until dessert?”
“Sit down before you scare the waiter,” Sana snapped, tossing a napkin at him.
Ved deadpanned, “Too late. He scared us in 2009 and hasn’t stopped since.”
Riyan grinned wickedly. “And you still love me.”
A flashback hit them all: the night he had spray-painted The Gang Rules across the school wall. When the principal caught them, Riyan had pointed at Abhay’s neat handwriting in their class notes and claimed, “See? This mess can’t be mine.” Abhay remembered the laughter and rage mixing in his chest. Even now, it made him grin.
The table shook with laughter as old rhythms clicked back into place. Their voices overlapped, rising and falling like music they hadn’t played in years. For a moment, it was perfect. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed.
Until the silence arrived with the empty chair.
Mrudula’s seat, untouched, waiting.
“She promised she’d come,” Sana said softly, staring at her phone.
Ved frowned. “No message. No call. That’s not like her.”
“Maybe she’s just late,” Abhay said quickly. Too quickly. Freddo shifted under the table, whining, eyes fixed on the vacant space.
The laughter faded into a heavy pause, the kind that didn’t belong to reunions.
Then the lights flickered.
Just once—an electric buzz, a brief dimming, shadows stretching long across their faces.
Sana laughed nervously. “Okay, this place really needs an upgrade.”
Everyone chuckled. Everyone moved on.
Except Abhay.
He froze, heartbeat stumbling. The flicker looked too familiar. Too much like the glitch on his laptop last night.
He reached down, stroking Freddo’s head to steady himself. The dog’s ears twitched, restless, as if he felt it too.
First the glitch. Now this, Abhay thought. Red flags keep piling up.
Write a comment ...