Year 8 short story

Ria’s Engagement

Ria knew something was suspicious the moment Rohan said the word “hike”.

“You’ll love it,” he had said smiling in that way that meant he had already decided they were going.

She hated hikes. He knew she hated hikes. The kind with steep paths, uneven stones and endless uphill stretches that made her legs ache and her patience disappear. But she went anyway, because he seemed excited and because loving someone meant trying.

By the time she had reached the top, her calves burned and her hair was clinging to the back of her neck. The wind was stronger there, whipping strands of hair across her face and the view stretched wide and green, endless below them.

“It’s nice right?” Rohan asked, slightly out of breath.

Ria nodded, still trying to slow her breathing. “Yeah, nice.”

Then he stepped back. And then he got down on one knee. For a second, the world went completely silent, like someone had pressed pause on everything. The wind. The distant voices. Even her thoughts.

“Ria Patel,” he said pulling out a small box, “will you marry me?”

Her heart jumped into her throat. Her hands began to shake as he opened the box. Inside was a ring. Rectangular. Her stomach dropped.

They had talked about this, more than once. She had laughed and said, “Anything but rectangular. I just don’t like the shape. I like ovel or round, something softer.” He had nodded at the time, like he understood. The wind felt colder now.

And suddenly, a memory flickered across her mind, quick and sharp. A time flash, her birthday dinner. She had wanted to try a small art workshop that evening, something quiet, meaningful and creative. Instead, Rohan had booked tickets to a loud sports game. Because he liked it. “You’ll enjoy it once we’re there,” he had said.

She still remembered smiling and going along with it.

The present rushed back. Rohan was still talking, still smiling, still holding the ring.

Another quick flicker in her mind. He had once brought her a bright orange dress. She never wore bright orange. “I just think it would look good,” he had said. “You should try dressing a bit more like this.” She had thanked him and hung it in her wardrobe where it remained untouched.

Back on the hilltop, Ria looked at him properly now. At the hopeful expression. At the ring he had chosen. At the hike he had planned.

Things he liked. Things he wanted. Things he chose. Her chest felt tight but her mind felt strangely clear.

“Rohan,” she said quietly.

“So, is that a yes?” He smiled wider.

She shook her head slowly and his smile faltered. “I can’t marry you,” she said, her voice trembling but steady at the same time. “I can’t because I feel along the way I stopped being myself and started becoming more like you.”

He stared at her confused. “What are you talking about? I did all of this for you!”

“I know you did,” she said gently. “But you planned a hike. You know I hate hikes. You chose a rectangular ring. You know I hate rectangular rings.”

“But I-”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s like you hear me but you don’t really listen to me.” The wind rushed past them filling the silence. “I need someone who encourages me to be myself and supports the things I love instead of trying to change them.”

Rohan stood up slowly, the ring box still open in his hands.

“I did love you,” she said gently. “And I’m thankful for this relationship because it helped me realize my own self-worth.” She took a small step back. “I really hope you grow as a person before you find someone else…because you’re not a bad person but you need to learn to love someone for who they are. Not who you want them to be.”

For a long moment, neither of them were speaking. The view was still beautiful. The wind was still blowing. The world had not ended, but something had changed.

Ria reached up and kissed him on the cheek one last time before she turned and began to walk back down the hill; she felt strangely light, like she had put down something heavy she didn’t know she’d been carrying.

For the first time in a long time, she was walking in the right direction.

by Piya Shrivastava (Year 8)