The restaurant sat at the edge of the city, overlooking a stretch of open sky where clouds drifted lazily like silent witnesses to countless stories below. For the team from Skyreach Training Center, it was a familiar stop—an unspoken tradition after long, exhausting days of guiding people through fear, gravity, and courage.
Tonight, laughter echoed louder than the clatter of plates.
They occupied two long tables pushed together. Ten of them in total—eight men and two women. Shriya sat between Grace and Peter, her back straight but her shoulders finally relaxed. She was still the newest member of the team, still learning their rhythms, their jokes, their unspoken bonds, but they had made space for her in a way that felt genuine. Not forced. Not polite. Real.
Grace was mid-story, hands animated, eyes wide as she relived the moment.
"I swear," she said, shaking her head, "the first time I had to dive alone, my legs nearly gave out. I thought I'd faint before I even jumped."
The group burst into laughter.
"Grace, you? Faint?" Ben scoffed. "That's impossible. You're the bravest one among us."
"Brave now," she shot back. "Not back then."
Shriya smiled quietly, watching them. She liked moments like this—simple, human, unguarded. At Skyreach, fear was their currency. Every day they met people standing on edges—literal and emotional. Some trembled, some cried, some froze. And as instructors, they weren't just teaching technique. They were teaching trust.
She had learned quickly that being fearless wasn't enough. You had to understand fear in others. Carry it gently.
"Damn," Ben suddenly muttered, leaning forward in his seat. "Who is that?"
Heads turned in unison.
Across the restaurant, near the counter, stood a woman waiting for her order. She looked tired, like someone who had spent the entire day carrying weight that wasn't hers. Her jacket was slung loosely over one shoulder, her phone in her hand, her gaze unfocused but alert.
"Ohhh," Peter grinned wickedly. "Ben, finally someone caught your eye. It's been what—three months since your last heartbreak?"
"She didn't leave me," Ben said quickly. "I left her."
A chorus of mocking "Mmhh" rose from the table.
"Just go," another guy said. "Get rejected so we can move on."
Ben groaned. "Why does everyone act like I'm cursed?"
"Because you are," Peter replied instantly.
They laughed again.
Ben sighed dramatically, then glanced at Shriya. "Maybe today's my lucky day. Shriya's here—she might be my good luck charm."
That worked. The attention shifted.
Grace leaned toward Shriya. "So… do you have someone?"
Shriya hesitated. Just a second too long.
"No," she said softly. "Not right now."
Not anymore.
The table went around sharing stories—who was married, who was engaged, who was single, who was complicated. Grace shrugged when her turn came. "It's… messy," she said, and left it at that.
Peter craned his neck toward the counter again. "Well, looks like Ben's about to add another rejection to his collection."Shriya followed his gaze.
Shriya felt her breath catch.
MK.
Of all places. Of all times.
---
MK hadn't planned on being here.
After work, she had only wanted food—something warm, something simple—before driving to her mother's house for the weekend. Her apartment felt too quiet these days. Too empty. Silence had a way of amplifying thoughts she wasn't ready to face.
Especially thoughts of Shriya.
She stood at the counter, waiting for her order, when a shadow fell beside her.
"Hey."
She glanced sideways. A guy. Smiling too easily.
"Hey," she replied flatly.
"I'm Ben."
"Okay."
He winced theatrically. "Ouch. That hurts, you know."
"Sorry," MK shrugged.
"So… can I maybe get your number?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Straight to the point."
"Well," he grinned, "I can beat around the bush if that gets your attention."
Not impressed.
"No need," she said. "I'm not—"
"MK!"
Her name echoed from the kitchen counter.
She froze.
Ben blinked. "MK? Nice name. What does it stand for—'My Kind'?"
Her mouth fell open. "What?"
He burst out laughing. "Just kidding. Hey, you should come sit with us—my friends are over there. I can introduce you—"
She stopped listening.
Because she saw her.
Shriya.
Sitting at the table.
She turned and locked eyes with her .
The world narrowed to a single point between them.
MK's heartbeat thundered in her ears. Shock, relief, fear, longing—everything collided at once. She hadn't expected this. Hadn't prepared herself. Hadn't rehearsed what she would say if she ever ran into her again.
"MK?"
Ben's voice sounded distant.
"I—sorry," she muttered, grabbing her food. "I have to go."
She turned and walked out before anyone could stop her.
Before she could stop herself.
From her seat, Shriya watched MK leave.
---
MK drove with the radio off.
The city lights blurred past her windshield, reflections streaking across her vision like memories she couldn't escape. Her mind replayed the moment over and over—Shriya's face, the surprise in her eyes, the distance she created by looking away.
"You idiot," MK muttered to herself. "What are you scared of?"
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
Wasn't she tired of running?
By the time she pulled into her mother's driveway, she had made a decision.
Tonight wasn't just coincidence.
It was a sign.
She stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her face, grounding her. Inside the house, she could already hear voices—her mother in the kitchen, her siblings arguing over something trivial, the familiar chaos she had missed.
She paused at the door.
Then whispered to herself, "I'm done hiding."
She would start from the beginning.
She would tell her mother the truth . That she liked women. Or specifically,she loved Shriya.
And then—she would fight for Shriya the right way.
No more silence.
No more fear.
No more pretending.
No more hiding her.
If love meant standing on the edge again, she was ready to jump.