**Winner 2024 Amby Awards**
Fiza has everything planned-medical school, a respectable future, and an engagement she never wanted. Determined to escape a loveless match, she creates a checklist to find the perfect husband her father will approve of.
...
The moment I stepped back into the hostel on Sunday, I knew I was in for it. Shahana and Priya were planted on my bed. Their eyes zeroed in on me, and I didn't need a mirror to know what they saw: yesterday's clothes, my slightly disheveled hair, the whole story written all over me.
Shahana's eyes lit up with undiluted glee. "Ooookay... I want every detail," she demanded excitemently. I just laughed, trying to play it cool, but my heart was already starting to race.
"Come on! Vineet told us you went to Alan's place," she pressed, leaning forward.
"Yeah, we deserve to know! I covered for your ass when the warden came to check the rooms," Priya chimed in, crossing her arms like she'd just presented irrefutable evidence in court.
I took a deep breath, clutching my bag. "There's really nothing to say," I insisted. "I talked to Alan about, you know, his alcohol... problem. And I stayed over so he wouldn't feel tempted to go to Mownika's party." It was the truth, but it felt flimsy saying it out loud.
"Did you sleep in his bed?" Shahana asked, utterly shameless, her eyes boring into me.
And just like that, the vivid memories flooded back. The feel of Alan's hands gently tangled in my hair, the warmth of his body curled around mine, the way our faces were so close I could feel his breath. A hot blush instantly crept up my neck and onto my cheeks. I could feel it burning.
"So?" Priya prodded, teasing but also curious. "Did you take over from Mownika?"
And just like that, all the warmth and the strange, tender excitement I'd been feeling deflated instantly, popped like a balloon. I rolled my eyes, suddenly feeling disheartened and a little sick.
"Well?" Shahana pressed again, not letting up.
"We are just friends," I said, my voice defensive now.
"With benefits, you mean," Priya quipped.
The two of them erupted into laughter. Was that all it had really been? Everything I had felt, the protectiveness, the care... it suddenly felt naive and foolish.
That night, long after the hushed gossip of the hostel had faded, I lay awake in the dark. I could still feel the ghost of his arms around me, the weight of his body against mine, the intimacy of waking up tangled together.
I reached for the small, leather-bound journal I kept hidden under my mattress. By the dim light of my phone, I flipped it open to a well-worn page titled Qualities of My Future Husband.
My eyes traced the previous entries. My pen hovered over the empty line for number ten.
#10. Physical intimacy should mean something to him.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The alarm blared at 6 AM and I felt a heavy, lead like weight pinning me to the bed.
Monday. College. I was sober. And without the haze, I felt like a fraud, failing at the one thing I was supposed to do. Maybe being a doctor wasn't for me. Maybe I should just quit.
