Sometimes when you look around, you notice how everything keeps changing, evolving, moving forward — and yet you feel exactly the same. I've always felt that way, like I'm stuck in the same place, unable to shift no matter how much I want to. What can I even do? I don't have any power over it.
I walked along the familiar footpath as a cold wind swept past, sending dried leaves scattering across the ground. Winter was here. It felt like just yesterday it was summer, and now everything has changed again. How many times have I walked this same path? I crossed the road quickly, lost in the feeling that time moves, but I don't.
…
"Here." I handed the blue file to Ms Sangay Om, our team manager. She smiled, just like she always did. I walked away wondering how she managed to keep that smile on every single day. Didn't it ever get tiring? Didn't her cheeks ache from pretending?
"Pema Zangmo?" she called out.
I turned back.
"Good work," she said warmly.
I nodded. Her life always appeared so perfect—nice job, kind and wealthy husband, a sweet little son with perfect manners. Everything about her seemed… effortless.
I sat back on my chair, shook my head slightly, and tried to focus on my work again. A notification chimed on my phone. It was Thinley Dema asking if I was coming to the wedding. Today was the day our friend, Sonam Ongmo, was marrying her long-term boyfriend. Another perfect match, another perfect life. I was genuinely happy for her—she had always dreamed of this.
I closed my laptop slowly and placed it into my bag. I had already informed Mrs. Sangay Om, and she seemed strangely delighted that I was attending. Maybe because I never showed up for office gatherings or any event that required interaction. Maybe attending a wedding counted as progress to her. I dressed up myself and took a taxi. The entire ride, my chest felt tight.
When I reached the venue, I inhaled a small, shaky breath and stepped into the hall. The place was glowing—colorful flowers everywhere, people laughing, talking, eating. All this noise made me want to disappear into the floor. I used to be talkative once…but now conversations suffocated me. The anticipation of "What will they ask next?" made my heart race.
"There you are!" Thinley came running toward me. "You're late," she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the crowd.
As we stopped, I saw Sonam. She looked stunning—wearing the prettiest kira, glowing from head to toe. Her smile grew the moment she saw me. Her husband stood beside her, nodding with a gentle smile.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile of my own. I stepped forward, handing them the gifts and the bouquet of flowers I brought.
"Congratulations," I said softly, placing the khadhar around their necks.
"You made it," Sonam said, eyes bright with emotion.
"I did." We hugged, and I felt her shoulders tremble with happy tears. I hugged her husband too, congratulating him.
When the party truly began, some people started dancing. I took a sip of my wine… maybe too many sips. It was the first time I drank in the evening, and it felt strangely freeing. I signaled to Thinley that I was going outside—she nodded.
The moment I stepped out, the cool wind kissed my face. It felt… peaceful. Quiet. I slipped off my heels—barely heels at all—and let the soft tips of the grass touch my feet. It made me giggle, maybe because I was tipsy, maybe because it was the first time I felt light in a long while.
Phone rang pulling me out, it was Thinley calling me to come as it was time for the meal. I sighed, put on my heels again, and took a step—only to stumble. I fell onto the soft ground and burst into laughter. What a fool I must look like.
As I lay there, a shadow blocked the light above me.
"Are you okay?" a voice asked.
A hand reached out.
Without thinking, I grabbed it. The moment our skin touched, a cold shock ran through me—cold enough to raise goosebumps from my arms to my neck. He pulled me up, and I looked into his face—
And everything went quiet.
For a moment, I could feel every tiny breeze brushing across my skin. My heart thudded painfully, loudly. He stood there like he owned the world—calm, confident, unreal. I felt myself sway again, dizzy not from the wine this time but from him.
He held my hand firmly, steadying me, sending butterflies exploding through my stomach. And then—he smiled.
He smiled.
He actually smiled.
The moment repeated in my head so loudly I could hear my heartbeat echo with it. I snatched my hand back and whispered, "Thank you."
Then I ran.
If I stayed a second longer, I was sure I would burst.
Who the hell was he?