He’d heard everything. Grey didn’t know whether it was a weird wind pattern or if he was sitting in some kind of sound tunnel, but every word Jaya and Isha, and then Jaya and Kiran, had said had floated up to him, as if they were speaking into microphones. Jaya had ended things with Kiran. She’d told him she believed she didn’t have to sacrifice herself for her family anymore. For the first time since the night before, Grey felt the stirrings of doubt. This didn’t sound like an act, not at all. And then, right on the heels of that doubt came blinding, searing, painful hope.

Could it be? Could it be that these last few minutes before the sun rose could be spent with Jaya after all? That she truly felt that Grey was worth more than the traditions and values she held dear? That she really had changed, like she’d told him? Before his brain could catch up, his body had unfolded itself from the boulder. Grey was crashing down the mountain, toward Jaya’s voice. He wasn’t thinking of what he’d say when he got there. He just knew he had to get there.

Jaya

The sun had begun its gradual ascent. Dawn was only minutes away. Jaya slipped her phone into her pocket, jerking her head up at the sudden sounds of branches snapping and thundering footfalls hurtling down the mountain toward her. It was Grey.

The wind whistled between them as they regarded each other silently. His face was haggard and his hair fell in his tired eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Jaya stood and stepped forward, closing the gap between them. She realized she had no idea what Grey was thinking. His blue eyes were as wild, as stormy, as the most tempestuous ocean, his mouth set in a hard line. “Hi,” she whispered.

Grey didn’t say anything. He looked like a wounded animal, unsure, afraid, suspicious. Painfully hopeful. It hurt her heart to see it, to see what she’d done. She waited, in silence, sensing that he needed it.

“Is it true?” he asked, his speech pressured, as if he couldn’t stop the words from forming.

Jaya stepped forward, trying to get closer to him, but he stepped back, not letting her. She felt the pain of his lost trust but held still, respecting his need for space. “Is what true?”

He pushed a jerky hand through his hair. “Everything, all of what you said—is it true?” He took a deep, shaky breath. “You’ve realized you don’t have to sacrifice your heart for your family?” He couldn’t quite meet her eye as he said it, as if he didn’t want to show how much he needed it to be true.