The ice-cream parlor buzzed with that unmistakable mix of laughter, loud music, clinking spoons, and cousins who had collectively decided that their outing was to annoy Bhumi and Lakshya as much as humanly possible. Every table was crowded, some with overexcited teenagers taking selfies, some with aunties demanding different toppings, and some with uncles pretending they didn’t enjoy being there. Every few seconds, someone screamed someone else's name, someone burst into laughter, and someone shouted for more napkins.

And yet… strangely… Bhumi didn’t feel suffocated anymore.

For the first time since her engagement had been announced, the weight on her chest didn’t feel like a mountain. Stepping away from home, from all the judgment-filled eyes, and from the endless talk about sarees, jewelry, rituals, and guest lists had helped her breathe. The salty breeze of Marine Drive brushing across her cheeks, the rhythmic crashing of waves in the distance, the warm chaos of relatives who truly loved her, everything was loosening the tight, painful knot that had wrapped around her heart for days.

Lakshya noticed the change instantly. He had been watching her closely, every sigh she suppressed, every forced smile, every moment her fingers trembled slightly while holding a spoon. But now… a real smile had touched her lips. Small, soft, but real. And that alone filled Lakshya with relief so deep that he exhaled like a man stepping out of a burning room.

“Okay, monkeys…” he clapped loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. “I’m stealing Bhumi for ten minutes. If any of you try to follow, I swear I’ll make you all eat bitter gourd ice cream.”

The cousins booed like offended animals and threw tissue wrappers at him.

“Jiju …” a teenage cousin yelled. “Come back soon… We need pictures for Instagram reels…”

“Yes, yes,” Lakshya waved them off dramatically, already dragging Bhumi toward the door. “If we survive this night, we’ll take a hundred pictures.”

Bhumi rolled her eyes but followed him willingly.

Outside, the warm, humid Mumbai breeze wrapped around them like a blanket stitched with city lights, honking cars, and the endless heartbeat of the sea. They walked toward the stone seawall, where the waves crashed violently as if shouting all the words Bhumi couldn’t.

She stood there silently, arms wrapped around herself, eyes fixed on the dark stretch of water. Her expression wasn’t blank; it was full. Full of heaviness, frustration, fear, and something so fragile that even the wind seemed afraid to disturb it. Lakshya took one step closer. Then another.

He raised his hand gently… and placed it on her head. That one touch broke her completely. She turned, almost stumbling, and clung to him, burying her face against his chest with a desperation that squeezed his heart. He didn’t speak. Didn’t question. Didn’t rush.

He simply wrapped his arms around her, holding her together while she quietly fell apart. After a long silence, Bhumi finally pulled back, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“Tell me, Lakshya… What did we ask our parents for that they couldn’t give us?”

A tear slid down her cheek, catching the glow of a streetlight.

“You just wanted to start your own business. You wanted to work hard, prove yourself, and build something that belonged to you. Is that wrong? Why does your father think marriage is some magical leash that’ll keep you tied to the family? Why does he think you’ll only stay connected if there’s a wife involved? You lived abroad for years… does that mean you’re less of their son?”

Lakshya kept his eyes on her, listening deeply, his silence telling her she could keep going.

“My parents…” she laughed bitterly, “are worse than yours. According to them, they’ve done enough by letting me graduate. Do I want to study further? Fine... as long as my future husband allows it. Everything comes with conditions. Everything.”

She pressed her fist against her chest as if something in there physically hurt.

“We call ourselves modern… But the truth is, our parents still hold the remote control of our lives. Completely… They decide what’s right, what’s wrong, and what’s acceptable. They decide who we marry. They decide where we study. They decide what dreams are too big.”

Her voice cracked.

“And I hate it, Lakshya. I hate lying to them. I hate disappointing them. I hate feeling like a criminal just for having dreams… and I hate myself for being too weak to deny them. I want to shout that I don't want to marry; I just want to change my dreams.”

A tear slipped. Another. He stands like a wall, providing her with support.

“But here I am… being forced into lying. I feel trapped in a fake marriage with you. even though marriage is supposed to be one of the purest bonds…. I never want all this drama in my life… Everything is suffocating me; all things show me how weak I am.

Lakshya gently cupped her face, lifting her chin so she couldn’t look away.

“Bhumi,” he whispered, wiping a tear with his thumb, “the only thing sacred between us is our friendship. That’s the purest bond I’ve ever known. Don’t burden yourself with guilt. Don’t call this sin... We’re not hurting anyone… we’re just trying to breathe… We are just trying to get our freedom.”

His voice softened even more, enough to steady her breaths.

“You are not at all weak; it’s just because of everything around us. Our parents force them to be so concerned about us … My parents think if I regularly live abroad, I will definitely marry a foreigner… Your parents believe that if they leave their daughter alone anywhere, she might elope with someone or that something bad could happen to her…. You need support to study. And I’m here. Whatever course you want to pursue, whichever university you are keen to join, and whichever city you want to live in, I’ll help you get there. I’ll stand with you through it.”

Her eyelids fluttered, eyes shining.

“And yes,” he added gently, “I know you could have fought your parents. I know you’re strong enough to run away from home, to shout your truth from rooftops. But you didn’t. You thought of me. You know I’m desperate to go back to England and start working before the opportunity dies. You know time is slipping away for me.”

He took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

“You agreed for me, Bhumi. You did this because you believe in my dreams. That means more to me than I can ever explain.”

Bhumi’s throat tightened again, but this time… Something warm was mixed in, gratitude, affection, and a quiet, helpless respect for the boy who had stood beside her for decades. She leaned her forehead against his chest.

“You’re my best friend,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “That’s why this hurts so much. Because everything feels real and unreal at the same time.”

Lakshya gently kissed her hairline.

“And that’s why,” he murmured, “we’ll make it work.”

Their silence wasn’t heavy now. It was comforting. Behind them, the parlor burst into loud, chaotic laughter. Their cousins had clearly spotted them outside.

“Jiju-Di..”. Someone yelled. “POSE LIKE A ROMANTIC COUPLE!”

Another shrieked, “Jiju, pick her up like in the movies.”

Lakshya buried his face in his hands. “Your family is insane.”

Bhumi sniffed, wiping her tears. “Yours is worse.”

They exchanged a look, one full of shared exasperation and hidden fondness, and then… They laughed. A real, full-bodied, heart-lightening laugh that made everything inside them loosen. Lakshya tugged at her wrist.

“Come on. Before they make reels about our tragic love story.”

Inside, chaos attacked them instantly.

“Smile, Bhumi…”

“Jiju, say, ‘I LOVE YOU,’ for the vlog…”

“Lift her… Lift her…”

“Make them dance….”

Lakshya placed a hand dramatically on his heart.

“I love these ice creams.”

The cousins booed loudly and threw popcorn at him. Bhumi found herself laughing again, wiping a tear from her cheek, this time, a tear of relief. The people around her, loud, ridiculous, and dramatic, were precisely what she needed. For a while, they made her forget the weight she carried.

In between all the teasing and shouting, Lakshya’s and Bhumi’s eyes kept meeting, two glances that held the same silent message:

We’ll survive this.

Together.

As always.

They didn’t need romance.

They didn’t need promises of forever.

They needed what they already had a friendship strong enough to stand against everything.

By the time they left the parlor, they had made quiet plans. Plans were whispered into each other’s ears as they walked by the sea. Plans of her completing her fashion degree in London.

Plans of him building his startup from scratch. Plans were to share an apartment only until they both stood firmly on their feet.

Plans of separating later without drama, without pain, and without regret. Plans of always staying friends, even after life pulled them in different directions.

They spoke of dreams, hopes, and fears.

They spoke of their parents’ expectations.

They even joked about their future fights in London.

about who would wash dishes, who would do laundry, and who would make Maggi at 2 AM.

They were, for a brief moment… free.

And just as they turned back one last time to look at the crashing waves…

The wind blew stronger, louder, and fiercer.

as if warning them that the calm was temporary.

As if reminding them that storms always come when least expected.

But tonight…

They didn’t care. They had ice cream. They had cousins. A large group of monkeys surrounded them, creating laughter. They had the sea breeze. And most important. They had each other.

When Lakshya and Bhumi finally returned to the table, their cousins were already in full dramatic mode, huddled together like investigators solving a decade-old mystery. The moment the two approached, everyone turned with the same exaggerated gasp, as if the suspects had walked right into their interrogation circle.

“Oh ho, look who’s back,” one cousin announced, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Honestly, we always knew something was happening between you two.”

Another nodded vigorously. “Obviously… Who studies together, eats together, fights together, and still refuses to leave each other alone? Only people in love.”

“Yes …” a younger cousin chimed in, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “And remember in 9th grade when Lakshya beat up that boy who teased Bhumi? That was a pure hero moment.”

“And remember,” another added dramatically, “during the school trip when Bhumi shared her last Dairy Milk only with Lakshya? Haan? Who does that unless she’s in love?”

The table erupted in laughter. Lakshya nearly choked on his ice cream. Bhumi turned red not out of embarrassment, but because she knew arguing was pointless with this insane group. More cousins joined in, each trying to outdo the other:

“We always had doubt.”

“Always knew there was something.”

“Best friends since childhood and now getting married? Destiny…”

“Finally, their love story is official.”

Lakshya leaned closer to Bhumi and whispered, “Look, we’re starring in a Bollywood conspiracy theory.”

Bhumi elbowed him hard, but she was smiling, really smiling, for the first time without force.

They stood there, cornered by nostalgia and affection, as their cousins recounted memory after memory of their childhood, stories of broken toys, stolen pencils, shared tiffins, late-night studies, festival photos, and every silly fight that ended with them laughing five minutes later.

The teasing grew louder, wilder, and more ridiculous, but instead of discomfort, Bhumi felt warmth spreading through her chest. These weren’t accusations… these were blessings wrapped as jokes. These were the voices of people who had watched their friendship grow like a stubborn vine, twisting through every phase of life, surviving storms and seasons, refusing to die.

Lakshya caught her eye across the noise, and the two burst into helpless, breathless laughter. This laughter stemmed from relief, a sense of belonging, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who loved them enough to tease them without mercy.

In that corner of the ice-cream parlor, while their cousins argued about who first predicted their “love story,” Bhumi and Lakshya felt something shift quietly between them. Not love. Not fate. Just a simple, powerful truth:

No matter how complicated the world outside became… in moments like these, they were safe.

Together.