For the first time in eight years, Aryan slept without dreaming of rain.
He woke to a Dubai morning washed in clear, gold light the kind that felt like a beginning, not just another day. His phone buzzed once on the nightstand.
One message from Rishi:
"Coffee? The usual place. Bring your quiet thoughts."
No urgency. No drama. Just coffee. Just friendship. Just the morning after the truth, and the world still turning.
THE USUAL PLACE
The "usual place" was a small Persian café tucked behind the financial district, where the barista knew their orders by heart and no one asked for autographs or deals. Rishi was already there, two cups of black coffee steaming between them.
"You look lighter," Rishi said by way of greeting.
"I feel… quiet."
"Quiet is good. Quiet means you're thinking, not just reacting."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching early-morning Dubai stream past the window suits and saris, ambition and prayer, a city built on second chances.
"I knew," Rishi said finally, swirling his coffee. "Not everything. But enough."
Aryan didn't look surprised. "Meera told you?"
"Last year. She was tipsy on wine and guilt after reconnecting with Anaya. She said, 'I loved him once, you know. Really loved him.' I told her some loves are meant to be lessons, not lifetimes."
"And you didn't tell me."
"Would you have wanted to know?" Rishi met his gaze. "Really? While you were building all this?" He gestured vaguely toward the skyline. "Sometimes ignorance isn't bliss it's oxygen."
Aryan knew he was right. Some truths need the right soil to grow in. Yesterday's truth would have withered in last year's heart.
MEERA'S CALL
His phone rang as they were leaving. Meera's name flashed on the screen.
He answered.
"Hey."
"Hey." Her voice was soft, a little tired. "I just wanted to say… thank you. For last night. For listening."
"Thank you for telling me."
A pause. "Rohan knows everything now too. We talked all night."
"And?"
"And he still wants to marry me." Her laugh was watery but real. "Says it makes him love me more knowing I'm capable of that kind of quiet loyalty."
Aryan felt something release in his chest a knot he hadn't known was there. "He's a good man."
"He is. And you… you're a good friend. I don't want to lose that."
"You won't."
They hung up with promises of wedding cake tastings and no more secrets. Ever.
ANAYA'S NEW DAWN
Anaya texted him a photo later that afternoon a sunrise over the Burj, taken from her balcony.
Caption: "New days look better when you're not hiding from yesterday."
He replied: "Yes, they do."
She wrote back: "I'm seeing someone. Nothing serious yet. But it feels… peaceful. I thought you should know."
"I'm glad."
And he was. Truly.
THE WEDDING INVITATION
The formal invitation arrived by courier that evening. Cream paper, gold script:
Mr. Rohan Mehta & Ms. Meera Kapoor
request the pleasure of your company
as they begin their forever…
and respectfully invite Mr. Aryan Seth
to stand as Best Man.
Attached was a handwritten note from Rohan:
"Aryan Meera says you're the reason she believes in selfless love. I'd be honored to have you stand with us. No speeches about the past. Just the future. Rohan"
Aryan held the paper, feeling its weight. Not of obligation, but of grace.
RISHI'S TRUTH
"You'll say yes, of course," Rishi said that night over dinner at Aryan's apartment.
"Of course."
"Good. Because I'm the wedding planner."
Aryan nearly choked on his wine. "You?"
"What? I have layers." Rishi grinned. "Also, I may have promised Meera a discount if I could keep you from brooding through the ceremonies."
They laughed, and it felt easy. Light.
Then Rishi grew serious. "There's something I haven't told you either."
Aryan stilled. "Another secret?"
"Not about you. About me." Rishi took a slow sip. "In college… I was in love with Anaya too."
The air shifted.
"You never said."
"Because it didn't matter. She loved you. You loved her. And I loved both of you too much to complicate it." Rishi smiled, a little sadly. "We're quite the trio, aren't we? Loving silently, missing loudly, and somehow still here."
Aryan reached across the table, clasped his friend's shoulder. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being the steady one. We'd have drowned without you."
QUIET FORWARD MOTION
That night, Aryan stood again on his balcony, but this time he wasn't looking for ghosts in the lights.
He was looking at the city as it was bright, alive, full of tomorrows.
His phone buzzed. A calendar notification:
"Wedding planning meeting Saturday, 10 AM.
Bring ideas, not baggage."
He smiled.
For the first time in a long time, the future didn't feel like a question.
It felt like an invitation.