MK walked out of the session with her chest heavier and lighter at the same time. Heavier because she finally saw the bruises she left on Shriya — bruises that never faded. Lighter because, for the first time since she returned, she didn't feel like she was talking to a ghost version of Shriya. The wall wasn't gone, but it had thinned… cracked in places.
Shriya didn't speak for a long moment as they walked down the street. Her hands were shoved deep into her pockets, shoulders tense, gaze fixed ahead. MK wanted to reach for her, but she stopped. After everything she heard inside that small room, she wasn't sure she had the right yet.
Then Shriya halted.
"MK," she said softly.
MK turned.
Shriya was standing under a streetlight, face calm but eyes softer than MK had seen in years. "Can I take you to dinner?"
MK blinked, surprised. Then a slow smile formed — that smile Shriya used to kiss without waiting. "I was about to ask you the same."
Their hands brushed as they walked, a small electric collision that sent both of their hearts hammering. Shriya had to fight every instinct not to tangle their fingers together. She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets just to keep from reaching out.
She remembered — MK never wanted the public to know her preference. Not out of fear for herself, but fear of disappointing her mother.
"Your mom… how is she doing?" Shriya asked, voice steady.
"She's fine. I visited when I first came back," MK replied. Only her little sister, and her nephew lived with her mom. Everyone else moved."
A beat passed. MK inhaled. "Do you… want to come with me next weekend?"
Shriya paused mid-step. "Do you really want me to?"
"Yeah," MK said without hesitation.
"Does she know about us?" Shriya asked quietly.
"No," MK answered — honest, but guarded. She didn't have the courage to elaborate.
They entered a crowded hotel restaurant. The only available table was at the far end, tucked in a corner. Perfect for them. They sat, and their meals arrived quickly — different from what they used to order together.
Huh. Even their favorite dishes had changed.
We really have changed, they both thought.
Their conversation was slow at first, small questions, cautious jokes, brushing familiar topics without touching the painful ones. It felt like a first date — careful, gentle, searching.
Then Shriya looked at MK with a look that froze the air.
"I missed you," she said.
No hesitation. No mask. Just raw truth thrown into the middle of the table.
MK stilled. Her breath hitched. The words hit her like a wave she wasn't ready for. Before she could stop herself, she leaned in — heart pounding so wildly she swore the entire restaurant could hear it — aiming for Shriya's lips.
Shriya pulled back gently, throat clearing. "Are you ready for the world to know you like women?" she asked, voice low but steady.
MK froze, breathing fast, heat rising in her face. Shriya was the only person who could do this to her — make her forget logic, forget fear, forget everything except her.
MK took a sip of water, trying to cool herself down.
Why does she have this effect on me?
One sentence and she was melting.
MK looked around and realized how many people had their phones out. She swallowed her impulse to kiss her .
"Thank you," MK whispered. Meaning it. Meaning more than she said. In that one moment, watching Shriya protect her without hesitation, MK forgave her — silently, completely — for everything that happened two years ago.
MK tried to regain control, but Shriya leaned in with a mischievous glint.
"Please tell me I'll get that kiss later," Shriya teased, immediately regretting how needy she sounded.
"I can give you more than a kiss," MK said softly.
Shriya choked. Actually choked. Water went the wrong way and suddenly the whole restaurant turned toward them. Chairs scraped, spoons paused in mid-air. Even the waiter rushed over.
"Are you okay?" someone asked.
Shriya nodded violently, coughing so hard her ears burned. MK was instantly beside her, hand on her back, eyes wide with concern.
"You okay?" MK whispered, full of worry.
"Yeah," Shriya croaked, face burning.her body reacting,"Can we leave now?"
MK smirked knowing the reason. "Not yet. I haven't eaten."
Come ON MK, I'm dying here, Shriya screamed inside her head. Her whole body was reacting in ways she couldn't control.
"Be right back," she muttered, shooting MK a pleading look before rushing toward the restroom.
MK watched her run off and almost burst into laughter. She had been embarrassed earlier, but now? This felt like victory.
MK signaled the waiter, paid the bill, grabbed both their things, and followed.
Inside the restroom, Shriya was splashing cold water on her face, breath shaky. MK paused by the door, watching the droplets slide down her jawline, the way her shoulders rose and fell.
"Shriya," MK called softly. "Let's go."
The people in the restroom turned. The name hung in the air like a spark.
"Shriya? The Shriya?"
Whispers rippled. Someone even gasped.
But Shriya smiled — a gentle, harmless smile — and the women relaxed. That's not her, they thought. Shriya would kill with a look.
MK nearly laughed out loud. How could they fear her?
Her Shriya?
Shriya wiped her face. MK teased lightly, "Were you about to take another cold shower?"
Shriya grabbed MK's hand instantly — pulling her close, pushing her back against the wall, caging her in. Her breath fanned over MK's cheek. MK's knees weakened. Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
"Sh-Shriya," MK stammered. They were in public. Anyone could walk in. But Shriya's nearness… her warmth… her lips so close…
MK leaned in slowly, helplessly.
Just before their lips touched, Shriya stepped back.
"Let's go," she said calmly.
MK nearly collapsed.
How could she be this cruel?
Shriya walked off with a small, victorious grin.
And MK followed flustered, .