"Lead the way," she said.
They walked away from the old office down the Andheri street, hand in hand, and she didn't look back. Not because she was done with it — she was not done with it, and the grief of it would come back at various moments for the rest of her life and that was appropriate and fine. But because the looking back was not what the moment needed. The moment needed her to look at the street ahead and the man beside her and the very real and specific and complicated future that was either going to be extraordinary or going to break her heart again, and she had decided — standing in front of a door with someone else's name on it in the same position as hers had been — that the possibility of being broken was not a reason to not go toward extraordinary.
She was a founder. She understood the risk calculus of walking toward things that could fail.
She walked toward it anyway.
