"That was damn boring," Aryaman muttered, ruffling his gel-set hair as he leaned against the door.

Jaymeet rang the doorbell and shrugged off his blazer. "Not that much," he replied casually.

Aryaman shot him a look. "Are you serious? What did you even like there?"

Jaymeet smirked. "The part where it finally ended."

Aryaman let out a short laugh just as the door creaked open. Khyati opened the door and saw the boys standing there. She let out a breath of relief. "First time in fifteen years, you're back from school not looking like you got hit by a tornado."

Jaymeet rolled his eyes as he stepped inside. "Wow, thanks for the warm welcome, Ma."

Aryaman leaned in and wrapped his arms around Khyati. "Ohh, lady, missed you so much," he sighed dramatically.

Khyati raised an eyebrow at the boy in front of her. "Aryaman, weren't you here just yesterday?"

Jaymeet smirked, kicking off his shoes. "Don't fall for it, Ma. He just likes the attention."

Aryaman placed a hand over his heart, gasping. "How dare you expose me like that?" He turned back to Khyati with puppy eyes. "You still love me, right?"

Khyati chuckled, patting his cheek. "Depends. Are you staying for dinner or just here to steal my affection?"

Aryaman grinned. "Both."

Jaymeet groaned. "Great. Another night of him fighting me for the last piece of roti."

Khyati shook her head as she shut the door behind them. "You two act like we don't make enough food for an entire army."

Aryaman smirked, slipping off his shoes. "Yeah, but it's about the principle, Khyati Ma. The last piece always tastes better when it's stolen."

Jaymeet rolled his eyes. "More like when it's wrestled for."

Before Aryaman could fire back, Jaymeet's father, Rajvir, called from the living room. "Took you both long enough. Thought you got lost on the way home."

"We almost did," Aryaman said as he flopped onto the couch. "Lost in a sea of boring speeches and forced nostalgia."

Rajvir chuckled. "Welcome to farewells. You think you'll miss school until you realize half the memories are just waiting for lunch breaks."

Jaymeet sat down beside him, stretching his legs. "Exactly. And now we get to spend the evening with your wisdom, Dad. What a privilege."

Khyati smirked as she walked past. "You'll appreciate his wisdom when he teaches you how to pay your own bills."

Jaymeet and Aryaman exchanged a look.

"Yeah, let's not rush into adulthood," Aryaman muttered.

"Agreed," Jaymeet said, reaching for the TV remote.

He was just about to grab it when Khyati swiftly snatched it away, making him groan. "Ma!" he whined.

"You both get your butts up and freshen up," she said, crossing her arms. "Naani and Naanu are coming."

Jaymeet flailed his hands dramatically. "Naani won't mind me looking like this-messed up, I mean. She's literally watched me like this my whole life!"

Khyati shot him a pointed look. "Yes, and she still complains about it every single time."

Aryaman chuckled, shaking his head. "How do we always end up with the same kind of adults in every house? Strict, dramatic, and convinced they're always right."

Khyati narrowed her eyes at him. "Because we actually are always right."

Jaymeet sighed, throwing an arm over Aryaman's shoulder. "See? They even have the same script."

Aryaman nodded seriously. "It's like they get handed a manual the moment they hit a certain age."

Khyati let out a mock gasp. "Oh no, they've figured it out." She pointed toward the hallway. "Now, off you go before I start using my 'adult' powers to extend your lecture."

Jaymeet groaned, already walking away. "Yeah, yeah, we're going."

"I swear, my mumma has got the same brain cell," Aryaman muttered as they walked off.

"I heard that!" Khyati called after them, hands on her hips. "And guess what? Pashmina's gonna hear it too!"

Aryaman's eyes widened as he hurried his pace. "Okay, wow, betrayal runs deep in this house."

Jaymeet snickered. "Dude, you really thought you could talk smack about moms and walk away unscathed?"

Aryaman sighed dramatically. "I had hope, man. False hope."

Khyati shook her head, amused, as she turned back toward the kitchen. "And they say teenagers are smart."

Both Aryaman and Jaymeet headed toward his room, Aryaman making a beeline for the bathroom. He took a quick shower and changed into the spare clothes he kept at Jaymeet's house-an obvious necessity, considering how much time he spent there.

Meanwhile, Jaymeet was taking far too long in the shower, much to Aryaman's frustration. He groaned, flopping onto the bed and pulling out his phone. How long does one person need? Is he trying to drain the entire water supply?

Sighing, he quickly messaged Pashmina: "At Jaymeet's. Will be back late."

With nothing else to do, Aryaman shut his eyes, letting himself relax as he waited-fully expecting Jaymeet to emerge only after he'd personally finished all the water in the house.

A few minutes into his relaxation, Khyati's voice rang through the house. "Jaymeet, Aryaman, come down! Naani and Naanu are here!"

Aryaman groaned, cracking one eye open. "Jaymeet, are you gonna come out today only?"

From the bathroom, Jaymeet's muffled voice came through. "Five more minutes!"

Aryaman scoffed. "You've been in there for five more minutes-twice!" He grabbed a pillow and launched it at the bathroom door.

"You go down and greet them, I'll come," came Jaymeet's muffled voice again as he started the shower.

Aryaman flailed his hands. "Alone? I don't even know them, brother!"

"Just say Sat Sri Akal and do peri pona, they'll love you," Jaymeet called back.

Aryaman was about to scold him to get out when Khyati's voice rang through the house again. "Jaymeet, Aryaman, come down quickly! How long are you both going to take?"

Aryaman huffed, running a hand through his damp hair before calling out, "Coming, Khyati maaa!"

He shot one last glare at the bathroom door, got up, and walked toward the door-but not before giving the bathroom door a solid kick. "Enjoy your flood, Your Highness," he muttered under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out, pausing slightly at the hallway. Peeking in, he saw the elderly couple sitting down, laughing warmly with Khyati Ma and Rajvir Pa. The atmosphere felt comfortable, familiar in a way that made Aryaman hesitate for a second longer.

Fisting his hands, he slowly unfurled them, exhaling as his fingers raked through his hair. There was no reason for his pulse to quicken, no reason for the odd weight settling in his chest. Yet, as he took the first step down, something about this moment felt... significant. Like stepping into a space that had been waiting for him all along.

Gurpreet Randhawa glanced up, expecting to see Jaymeet bounding down the stairs. Instead, the sight that met her eyes made her breath falter, her heart stumbling over a beat.

The warmth of conversation around her dulled to a distant hum. Even Daljeet's voice, steady beside her, faded into nothing.

This wasn't Jaymeet.

It was his friend-the boy Khyati had mentioned. A guest, nothing more.

And yet, as she kept looking, logic unraveled at the edges. The shape of his face, the way he carried himself, even the way the light framed him-it was all too familiar, too close to a face she never thought she'd see again.

Her fingers curled against her lap as something deep within her stirred, something she had long buried.

Her lips parted, and before she could stop herself, a name slipped out-fragile, disbelieving, and lost between memory and reality.

"Armaan."

Daljeet hadn't thought much of the soft murmur that left Gurpreet's lips. A name-barely a whisper, barely there. It was the way she said it, though-like a memory slipping through time, fragile and disbelieving-that sent something uneasy curling in his chest.

Before he could ask, Khyati's voice broke the silence, light and teasing.

"Aryaman! Finally! Took you long enough."

Rajvir chuckled, shaking his head. "We were about to file a missing person's report."

Their laughter rippled through the room, warm and familiar, settling the air around them. For everyone else, it was just another evening. Just another moment.

But the second Daljeet turned toward the stairs, following their voices-his breath stilled.

He hadn't paid much attention when the boy first walked in. Had barely spared him a glance, assuming he was just another one of Jaymeet's friends.

But now, as he finally looked-really looked-something inside him lurched.

It was ridiculous. Impossible.

And yet, for the briefest of moments, Daljeet swore he wasn't looking at Aryaman at all.

He was looking at Armaan.

Gurpreet's voice trembled with recognition, but she didn't have time to react fully before Daljeet quickly reached out, grabbing her hand. He shook his head, the words coming out thick and uneven.

"He's long gone," Daljeet murmured, as if trying to convince himself as much as her. His grip on her hand tightened, like a silent plea to anchor them both in the reality that Aryaman, this boy, wasn't who they thought he was. He wasn't Armaan.

Gurpreet's heart pounded as she tried to make sense of Daljeet's sudden change. Her eyes never left Aryaman, but Daljeet's grip on her hand pulled her back, his voice cutting through her thoughts. She barely understood what he was saying, only feeling the weight of his words settle into her chest.

But Daljeet couldn't let go. He had to believe it. They had to move on.

Gurpreet's gaze remained fixed on Aryaman, but Daljeet's hand kept her in place. She was confused, unable to understand what was happening, but she could feel the tension in Daljeet's grip, the urgency in his voice.

Aryaman, sensing the awkward silence, took a shy step forward, offering a polite greeting.

"Hello... I'm Aryaman," he said, giving a small, uncertain smile as he addressed the couple.

Gurpreet's eyes were still locked on Aryaman, but she didn't respond right away. Her thoughts were racing, trying to piece everything together. She opened her mouth as if to say something but stopped when Daljeet's grip on her hand tightened again.

Daljeet gave a gentle pat to Aryaman's cheek, his smile soft and genuine. "Nice to meet you, puttar," he said warmly.

Aryaman turned to Gurpreet, his gaze lingering on her, waiting for her to say something, anything. He could feel the weight of her stare on him, and it made him uneasy, like he was under some silent scrutiny.

Gurpreet didn't respond immediately. Her eyes were still fixed on Aryaman, a look of disbelief flashing across her face for a split second. Then, she blinked and looked away, taking a deep breath as if to gather her thoughts.

Khyati noticed the tension in the air and quickly stepped in to break it. "Alright, enough of the staring," she said with a playful tone, giving Gurpreet's hand a gentle tug. "Our handsome boy's here, and Mumma, let's get to the kitchen and make some dinner. He's specially here for that."

She led Gurpreet away toward the kitchen, and the atmosphere lightened. Aryaman let out a quiet sigh of relief, but a small part of him still wondered what was behind the strange look Gurpreet had given him.

Once the ladies were in the kitchen, Gurpreet took a shaky breath, her hand still gripping Khyati's. She pointed hastily towards Aryaman, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"Ar... Armaan," she stammered, her eyes wide with confusion. "He looks like Armaan..."

Khyati cupped her mother's face gently, her own eyes welling up with unshed tears. "Shh, Ma," she whispered softly, her voice comforting. "I get it. I know."

Gurpreet's sobs trembled through her body as she clung to Khyati. "Armaan... my Armaan," she whispered, her tears soaking Khyati's shoulder. "Why does he look like him?" Her voice cracked, the weight of the past flooding back, raw and overwhelming.

Khyati pulled her mother into a tight embrace, her hands trembling as she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm not the only one who felt it... all those years. My overthinking... it was right."