The peak was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirping of birds. The sky was slowly transitioning from an inky black to deep shades of purple and orange, signaling the arrival of dawn. Aarohi sat cross-legged on the edge of a flat rock, her arms wrapped around her knees, while Shubman leaned back on his palms, staring ahead at the horizon.

“Worth it, huh?” Aarohi asked, her voice breaking the silence.

Shubman let out a small huff of laughter. “I’m reserving judgment until I see the sunrise. You’ve set some pretty high expectations.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

For a while, they didn’t speak, simply enjoying the calm. Then, Shubman broke the silence, his tone softer than usual. “You know, we we'd been best friends for eight years. Not a single fight. Nothing.”

Aarohi’s smile faded, and she turned to look at him. “Yeah. And then you decided to throw it all away after that one fight.”

Her words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Shubman’s gaze dropped to his hands, his jaw tightening. He didn’t have a defense because, deep down, he knew she was right.

“I—” he started but stopped, shaking his head slightly.

Aarohi exhaled, the frustration evident on her face. “Chhod na yaar, Kuch aur baat karte hai.” she muttered, turning her eyes back to the horizon.

Minutes passed before she broke the silence again, her voice quieter this time. “How’s your family?”

Shubman glanced at her, caught off guard by the change in tone. “They’re good,” he said. “Mom and Dad are doing great. Di…” His voice softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “She really misses you.”

Aarohi blinked, her expression softening. “She was always the nicest,” she said. “She used to call me her little sister.”

“She still does,” Shubman admitted. “She asks about you sometimes.”

Aarohi smiled faintly but didn’t say anything.

“What about your family?” he asked after a beat. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s fine,” Aarohi said, her voice steady. “Same as always.”

“And your dad?”

Aarohi froze, the question hitting her like a jolt. She looked down at her hands, her fingers tightening around her knees. For a long moment, she said nothing.

Shubman’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward slightly. “Aarohi?”

She inhaled deeply and finally spoke, her voice strained. “Umm..He died.”

Shubman’s face paled.

“Two weeks after our fight,” she continued, her words measured as if she were forcing them out. “Car accident.”

The weight of her words hit Shubman like a blow to the chest. He stared at her, stunned and at a loss for words. “Aarohi… I… You should’ve told me. I would’ve—”

“I did,” she said, cutting him off. She turned to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I did, Shub. I called you. I texted you. I tried everything. But then mom had already decided to move. I couldn't do much. And after that fight, I just didn't know how to...”

Her words sank in, and Shubman’s heart twisted with guilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. What could he say?

The silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.

Finally, Aarohi broke the tension, her voice lighter but still tinged with sadness. “Anyway, enough of that. Tell me—are you still obsessed with pineapple pizza, or have you finally developed some taste?”

The abrupt change in topic caught him off guard, but he seized the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Excuse me, pineapple pizza is a delicacy,” he said, mock-offended.

“Sure it is,” Aarohi replied, rolling her eyes. “And let me guess—you still put ketchup on everything, don’t you?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he shot back, grinning.

The corners of her lips twitched, and soon they were exchanging playful banter, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating.

As the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Aarohi and Shubman sat side by side, their laughter echoing softly in the stillness of dawn.

For the first time in years, it felt like they were finally finding their way back to each other.