Hand in hands or miles apart, sister and brother always connected by heart.
ANANYA
Destiny is a mysterious force. We often believe we can shape our destiny, control our fate. But in reality, we're more passengers than pilots. We live under the illusion that we make all our decisions, but sometimes, what's meant to be will always find a way.
It's been nearly two years since I last set foot in India. In that time, so much has changed—mostly within me. The once sweet, chubby girl has transformed into a confident, intelligent woman.
Back in school, I was the quintessential nerd. Maybe I still am, but I’ve learned how to truly live. Life is fleeting and unpredictable, so I’ve made it a point to savor every moment. You never know what tomorrow holds.
There’s something magical about stepping off a plane, feeling the solid ground beneath your feet, and inhaling the first breath of fresh air. It always brings a sense of comfort, a feeling of coming home.
As I made my way out of the terminal, my eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. But my brother was nowhere to be found among the sea of people. The terminal wasn’t overly busy, especially for this time of day, so it wasn't hard to see that he wasn’t there.
Now, I’ve been standing outside the airport for the past 15 minutes, waiting. A creeping suspicion starts to settle in—did my brother forget he was supposed to pick me up today? I’m already exhausted from the long flight, and now here I am, stuck in this sweltering heat because of my unreliable brother. Don’t get me wrong, I love him dearly, but sometimes he can be a real headache.
Anyway, I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Ananya Singhania, a 24-year-old woman with dark brown eyes and long, straight black hair. I’m not as tall as my brother, but I wouldn’t say I’m short either—just average height.
I’m a doctor working at Edenberk Hospital in New York, and yes, I’m absolutely single. Unlike my brother, who has a string of ex-girlfriends and a not-so-stellar reputation from our school days.
I was lost in my thoughts when I suddenly noticed a figure sprinting towards me. He was tall, easily around six feet, dressed in a crisp white shirt and blue jeans. Even from a distance, his handsome features were unmistakable. As he drew closer, I recognized that familiar smile, his white teeth flashing as he grinned at me. It was my brother. Without a second thought, he wrapped me in a tight hug, and I could feel how much I had missed him.
But then reality hit me—this was the same brother who had left me standing outside Mumbai airport in the sweltering 30-degree heat for the past 20 minutes.
My tolerance for heat is practically nonexistent, and here I was, baking in the sun because of this fool. He finally seemed to realize his mistake and began apologizing profusely, but I just glared at him, too annoyed to speak.
"Oh, my cute sister, I’m so sorry for being late. Please forgive me!" he pleaded, his voice full of contrition.
Did he really think I would forgive him that easily? He must be out of his mind. But then, he pulled out his secret weapon—those big, puppy-dog eyes. After throwing a bratty tantrum for a good five minutes, I eventually caved and forgave him. He can be such an idiot, but he's my idiot.
Just as we were sharing a laugh, our reunion was interrupted by a loud voice. I turned to see a man in the distance, his face obscured, shouting impatiently at my brother, demanding to know how much longer he was going to take.
My brother quickly called back, "Just two minutes!" before turning to me with an excited look. "I brought some friends along and can’t wait to introduce you to them."
We started walking towards the car, dragging my luggage along. A smile crept onto my face—despite everything, it felt good to be home. But that smile quickly vanished as we approached the car. My heart skipped a beat when I saw someone I never thought I’d see again in my life.
His dark brown hair was slicked back neatly, and his blue eyes sparkled brightly in the sun. Standing at six feet tall, he effortlessly towered over me. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, muscular forearms and the prominent veins running beneath his skin. This detail added an extra layer of rugged charm, making him look both stunning and undeniably handsome.
There he was—the infamous Aakash Malhotra, my school crush. The very sight of him sent my thoughts spiraling, and before I could process the shock, my brother’s next words sent my world crashing down.
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