The sun hung low, casting golden beams through the branches and dappling the picnic area with warm light. Tara erupted with laughter as she juggled her baby in one arm, the child's giggles weaving through the scent of grilled food and fresh grass. Rahul sat at a distance, his phone glued to his ear, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Piya, slightly apart from the laughter, sat on a picnic blanket, her eyes lost in the sight of a Hungarian Vizsla bounding through the field. The dog's energy sparked a longing within her, a bittersweet reminder of moments filled with joy. She instinctively clutched her headphones tighter, seeking solace in their familiar weight.

Zoltan trailed toward her, the light breeze ruffling his blonde hair. He studied Piya's distant gaze, feeling the tug in his heart. With a grin, he waved his hand, a playful invitation.

"Hey, Piya," he called, tilting his head. "Why not take those off? You're missing a beautiful day."

She turned slightly, hearing his voice but not understanding the words. When his eyebrow arched in amusement, realization dawned on him—she wasn't listening to a thing.

"Ah, the familiar battle of hearing aids against the real world," he mused, feigning solemnity. "Come on! The world has too much to offer to be locked away in silence."

Piya shrugged her expression a blend of amusement and retreat.

Zoltan gestured towards the dog cavorting nearby. "That one? A Hungarian Vizsla! They're a bit mad, running around like they own the place. Ever seen one fetch?"

She leaned in slightly as he continued. "Such a lovely dog, isn't it?"

Piya's eyes glinted with a flicker of intrigue, subtly moving closer to Zoltan, drawn by his infectious enthusiasm.

"What do you think? Pretty awesome dog or what?" he quipped, nudging her lightly. "I think you should give the world some attention, just like that Vizsla. Rawr!" He pretended to bark, making Piya chuckle, breaking the tension slightly.

Then, Zoltan turned to her with a directness that caught her off-guard. "You love Rahul, don't you?"

Silence enveloped them. Piya froze, her heart pounding in her ears. Zoltan, realizing the weight of his question, chuckled lightly to ease the pressure.

"Come on! You can answer malware codes and algorithm puzzles without breaking a sweat but can't say anything about your heart?" He offered her the notepad and pen he always carried. "Say something. Anything."

Piya hesitated but accepted the notepad. She scribbled quickly, her brows furrowing, focusing intently on her words.

"I don't hate him anymore," she wrote, the pen scratching against the page.

Zoltan's eyes widened, a grin breaking across his face. "Now, that's progress! I mean, can I add 'victory' to my calendar?"

A hint of embarrassment crept onto Piya's cheeks. She took a moment before continuing her thoughts on the page, words tumbling out in a rush, trembling with emotion.

"He... he didn't know," she wrote, pausing to breathe. "They didn't know they were..." Piya's hand shook slightly, capturing the weight of her recall. "My mother... Meena... they convinced her to donate her kidney. She shouldn't have... she said it was alright...we would go to Shimla .... and then complications. They just assumed... assumed."

Zoltan's expression shifted, empathy flooding his features. He read her words slowly, absorbing each piece of hurt.

"I'm sorry, Piya." His voice softened. "I didn't know."

Piya nodded, her throat tightening as she continued. "I ran away after talking to Rahul and JR. They wanted so send me to a boarding school. An expensive one. ' A deal is a deal' JR said" Piya paused before picking up her pen again, "They were doing it out of pity, guilt. I couldn't... I couldn't accept that. It was blood money"

The weight of silence pressed around them, lingering like the fading sunlight.

Zoltan took a breath, considering. "Sometimes, those assumptions hurt the most," he offered gently. "It's like that dog over there," he gestured subtly to the playful Vizsla, "The man thinks he's exercising him, while the poor pup believes he's bringing joy to the man. They both miss what they're actually doing together."

Her brow furrowed, Piya met his gaze, intrigued by the analogy.

"It's all a matter of perspective," he continued. "Maybe you and Rahul are like them, both wanting to connect but using the wrong means. You've both been running in circles—pity here, pride there."

Piya blinked, processing his words. The realization washed over her—had she truly spent all this time avoiding connection? Had he too?

"Both of you are missing the joy of simply being present," he added, his voice warm yet insistent. "What do you think could change it?"

"Change," she wrote again, a furrow creasing her brow. The idea itself felt foreign.

Zoltan chuckled, lightly poking her side. "Don't overthink it! What if you guys just talked—like two normal people?"

"But there's so much pain... complications," she countered, a hint of frustration creeping into her messy penmanship. "How do I just talk it out?"

"Start small," Zoltan replied, his tone coaxing. "Ever tried just saying, 'Hey, it's nice to see you'?"

Piya's mouth twitched at the corners; for the first time, she found the notion slightly amusing.

"Exactly!" Zoltan laughed, lightening the mood. "And when it inevitably spirals into a complex debate about emotional intricacies, just remember: it's okay not to have answers."

She wrote quickly, "Like now?"

"Exactly! You're laughing. That's a win already." He winked. "And if things get heavy, you just vibe with the dog over there," he winked again, mischief dancing in his blue eyes.

Piya suppress a giggle.

"See?" He pointed. "Life's too short for misunderstandings. Especially while the dog fetches through the summer days."

A fleeting smile crossed Piya's lips before slowly fading as she pondered deeper questions. "What if he hates me?"

"Then who's the loser?" Zoltan responded, pretending to ponder as he lifted his chin dramatically. "You're Piya Sharma! The queen of coding and independence. He should be lucky."

The smile returned, albeit faint. Zoltan's words threw sparks of hope through the ash of her fears.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Zoltan pressed on, leaning a little closer, coaxing out her confidence. "Open the door a crack—even a little."

"Piya," came Tara's voice in the distance, drawing their attention. "Are you two sharing secrets?"

She waved her hand, an amused shine returning to her eyes.

Tara smiled, her gaze drifting between them. "Just make sure the secrets are good!"

"We're discussing life philosophies!" Zoltan replied, his grin permanent as he backpedalled expertly.

Tara looked sceptical, then laughed. "Okay, philosopher! Food is ready, and it's absolutely marvelous. You all can't miss out."

Piya smiled but held the notepad tightly in her lap.

"Come on, Piya," Zoltan said, winking. "Let's fetch some joy together. Grab that pen, scroll some courage ideas, and stroll to the table."

Piya hesitated but then finally unclutched the pad, tucking it away. She stood, shaking off the heaviness lingering in her heart.

As they walked towards the laughter of their companions, Piya felt lighter. Her heart whispered—maybe, just maybe, it was time to step into the light, to toss aside the shadows blurring her interactions with Rahul.

They found their places at the picnic table. Laughter cascaded around them, the sound mingling with sunlight and warmth, and for the first time in a long while, Piya allowed herself to feel present.