Months passed.
Between assignments, family responsibilities, and different time zones, Maddy and Diya found a rhythm—an imperfect but heartwarming dance that they learned one step at a time. Distance was no longer the villain; it had turned into a quiet backdrop against which their story bloomed once again.
Every evening, after dinner, Diya would prop her phone up on a pillow and call Maddy. It became their thing. No matter how tired, how busy, how cranky—those calls grounded them. They'd study together, camera off, mic on, occasionally reminding each other to focus. On weekends, they planned movie nights, syncing their screens and reacting to plot twists in real time. The lag didn't matter. What mattered was the laughter, the shared silence, and the sense of "us" they were rebuilding.
There were little things—small, tender gestures that made all the difference.
One evening, Diya was feeling particularly low. It had been a rough day, her mom was worried about something, and the homesickness hit hard despite being home. Maddy, sensing her shift in tone, didn't ask questions. Instead, he changed his Discord background to an old picture of them in college, added a dorky virtual hat on his head, and made her laugh until her stomach hurt. It wasn't a solution, but it was enough.
Other days, he'd set up a virtual whiteboard for them to "doodle" on while talking. Diya once drew a tiny version of herself holding a water bottle and titled it "hydrated because Maddy said so." It stayed on the board for weeks.
Over time, Diya found herself talking less to Harsh. There was no falling out, no drama—just a slow, natural shift. Harsh noticed, but didn't push. He'd always known his place in Diya's life, and as Maddy's bond with her deepened again, he quietly stepped back. Still a friend, still around—but no longer at the center.
It was peaceful. Easy.
And yet, not perfect.
Sometimes, the distance felt cruel. Like when Maddy fell sick and Diya couldn't be there to fuss over him. Or when Diya cried silently after a bad exam and had to wait hours to see Maddy's sleepy face and hear him say, "It'll be okay."
But they made it work.
Because love, when watered with intention—even across screens and cities—still grows.
And for now, that was enough.