“You’re digging your nails into my palm,” he whispered back.

But when her mother coughed, Anjali leaned her head on Surya’s shoulder and said, “He remembers how I take my filter coffee. With jaggery, not sugar.”

The climax came at a family wedding. Drinks flowed. Relatives asked when the weddings were happening. Niharika and Vikram were cornered by a nosy aunt. “So, love at first sight?”

Their parents, retired and restless, issued an ultimatum: "Get married within six months, or we sell the ancestral house in Banjara Hills."

One rainy night, their car broke down near Necklace Road. Vikram, who was supposed to drop Niharika home, took off his jacket and held it over her head. “Come,” he said. “We’ll walk to the metro.”