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“I can’t believe you bought all my books...” Farhan murmured, his eyes shining
Rancho rubbed the back of his neck with a tiny grin. “It was the least I could do.”
The orange glow of sunset spilled through the cluttered windows of Rancho’s office, casting long shadows over open notebooks and tangled wires. Chatur walked in the background, frantically talking on his phone in three different languages. Raju rattled around a tiny stove in a corner, humming off key as he stirred tea, filling the room with the smell of cardamom.
Pia didn’t say anything. She just sat on the table. Her eyes tracking every movement Rancho made, the way his fingers still danced absently, the slight sway in his posture, it was still quik, focused, and electric.
“Hey, Rancho, why do you have a bottle of fenny here?” Raju shouted from the corner, holding it up like he’d discovered buried treasure.
“It’s his coping mechanism for the dull life of a teacher” Chatur muttered, still in a call.
“If you keep insulting him, Mr. Wangdu is going to blacklist you” Farhan shot back, crossing his arms
Rancho shrugged, grinning. ““It’s just a gift. One of my students’ parents brought it from Goa.”
Raju's eyes sparkled as he cradled the bottle dramatically. “You guys know what this means—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Farhan cut in, already suspicious.
“Farhan, my brother,” Raju said, suddenly theatrical, stepping forward. “You stopped a plane. We almost flushed a stranger’s ashes down a toilet, crashed a wedding and we tolerated Chatur for hours.”
“Hey!” Chatur objected mid-sentence, still glued to his phone.
“All to find this sneaky bastard,” Raju finished, pointing a finger at Rancho. “I think we deserve it.”
Pia laughed softly from the table, her chin resting in her palm.
“And now,” Raju continued, deadly serious, “you are legally required to tell us everything you’ve been doing for the past ten years. And I didn't make enough tea for that.”
Rancho raised both brows, then reached out with a grin. “Give me that.”
𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯
The moon had risen, casting a pale glow over the chill of Ladakh’s night. Rancho had built a small bonfire in the schoolyard. Everyone huddled close, chasing warmth as the bottle was passed around.
Chatur was the first to surrender, muttering about patents before dozing off in the front seat of his car. Farhan eventually slumped onto Raju’s shoulder, leaving the story of Raju’s wedding halfway told. Rancho looked exactly as always, composed and untouchable. Pia took only a few sips, her eyes dancing in the remaining flickering fire.
Raju, flushed and content, sat cross-legged in the grass, arms wide, embracing the stars. “I’d like to toast Rancho…” he announced, wobbling a little, “or Phunsuk… whatever name the clever bastard is using now.”
Oh, God."Pia murmured, hiding her grin behind her hand.
Raju raised the bottle in a shaky salute. “To the man who stole a name, a degree, and the heart of our dear Pia.” Then he collapsed backwards onto the cold grass, dragging Farhan down with him, who didn't flinch.
Rancho turned to Pia, their eyes meeting, and laughter bursting from them both. Even with glasses and a little more age on his face, Rancho's laugh had remained the same, young and carefree.
Rancho slowly got up, stretching. “You should change that dress,” he said sweetly, offering his hand to Pia. “Eventhough it suits you very well.”
She blushed, taking his warm hand and letting herself be led across the school grounds, with wind tugging gently at her hair as they walked.
“What’ll happen to them?” she asked, glancing back at the two tangled men on the grass.
Rancho smiled without looking. “They’ll be fine. Might even fix their backs.”
They got to Rancho's bedroom, it smelled of oil and old books, with the only light coming from a small lamp. There were shelves full of notebooks, dismantled machines, and cables coiled like sleeping snakes. The bed was narrow and unadorned, tucked beside the wall.
“So this is where your best ideas come from, huh?” Pia asked, examining the cables.
Rancho shrugged. “They come from my head.”
Pia sighed playfully. Slowly, she began to remove her earrings and bracelets, struggling with the zipper on her dress.
“Here,” he said, stepping forward. Hid hands moved gently and the zipper gave away with a soft click,revealing a bit of her tanned back.
He didn’t step away.
And she didn’t turn around.
“I’ll find something comfortable for you,” Rancho said after a pause, clearing his throat as he slipped out of the room.
Pia's gaze scanned the room, her eyes falling on an old but familiar notebook. It was one of the ones Rancho used at ICE. She picked it up casually and a folded piece of paper slipped out of one of the corners.
A folded letter, worn soft at the edges, with handwriting she could recognize even in her sleep.
My dearest Pia,
If you are reading this, it is probably because I hit my head and finally found the courage.
Once, Raju told me that I was good at running and avoiding problems. I think I’ve been running my whole life, Pia. And I never learned when to stop.
I know you must be wondering, and well…
I had to leave because I made a promise, a deal, really. I could study engineering, but only if I agreed to change my name and pretend. So I did.Surprise, I guess.
I wanted to tell you before, but every time I tried, I got lost in the sparkle of your beautiful, enormous eyes.
Is it too late to ask if you're married?
If you are, please, burn this letter. Live a happy life with your husband. (I hope you followed your heart, and didn't marry the guy with the imported shoes.)
In case you're not.
There hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about you, Pia. I've named a few of my inventions after you, but none of them are even close to being as beautiful. Machines don’t have your stubbornness, your smile, or your magic.
I hope my disappearance didn't make you cry too much. I'd rather you slap me than that.
Still… don't come looking for me. I've run too far away and I can't give you the life that you deserve.
This was a mistake, I'm sorry.
Forget me, Pia. And be happy.
Rancho (Really Phunsuk )
Her hands trembled slightly as she reread the final part several times. Ten years trying to move on, but the memory of Rancho always slipped back.
“I hope you don't mind sleeping with an oil-stained kurta—” Rancho said as he stepped inside, stopping short when he saw the letter in her hands.
“Were you going to send this?” She's asked, still looking at it.
Rancho didn't answer, only looked at the old folded paper. “I... I was actually going to burn it.”
Pia exhaled, shaking her head. “I was going to marry Suhas, you know,” she said, finally raising her eyes. “If Raju and Farhan hadn’t barged in like lunatics.”
He didn't move.
“I told myself it didn’t matter anymore. That you wouldn’t come back.” She continued. “I waited either way.”
Pia stepped closer, enough to see the tension Rancho's his jaw, the shimmer gathering at the edge of his lashes. “You're an idiot,” she whispered.
“I've been told that,” he replied, curving his lips.
“I'm furious,” she added, with a crooked smile. “Furious that you're the most beautiful idiot I've ever met.”
Rancho blinked, once, twice.“Pia...”
“I'll keep this,” she interrupted, pressing the folded letter to his chest.“So I can take it out and tease you when you propose.”
Rancho couldn't help but smile. “You haven't changed a bit.” His fingers slid into hers, and this time, it was Rancho who leaned in, kissing her, soft and deliberate, his thumb brushing her cheek, making sure she was really there.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her lips brushing his skin. He wrapped both arms around her waist, and held her like a man re-learning gravity, remembering where the ground actually is.