Some things begin with a spark. Ours began with a phone screen.

Anurag, ever the pragmatist, asked to chat before our first date: he wanted to make sure the vibe was right. We talked. Really talked. About life, ambition, families, cities we’d lived in, and the shape of the universe we were trying to carve out for ourselves. By the end of the call, he asked me out.

That first date started at Little Island and wandered into the heart of the West Village, his favorite neighborhood. The streets were glowing in that golden New York way, and between the cobblestones and the skyline, we found ourselves speaking a shared language. He told me how he sees the world: deliberate, reflective, grounded. I told him how I feel it: vividly, viscerally, all at once. Something clicked. There was no game, no pretense; just two people who knew what they were looking for and found something better.

By our second date, we were exclusive. It felt inevitable.

Since then, we’ve been inseparable—not in the clingy, cinematic way, but in the deep, quiet knowing that you’ve found your favorite person to do everything and nothing with. We’ve strolled through The Met like tourists in our own city, lost hours in late-night conversations, split groceries and philosophies in equal measure. We’re both workaholics with impossible dreams: he, a poet of systems and strategy; me, a dancer in a world of logic. We believe in mastery. In excellence. In showing up for the work.

But more than anything, we believe in building a life that feels full. Full of family, friendships, meaning, and mischief. Of quiet dinners and big ideas. Of holding hands through every hard thing. We want to spend our days doing great things, and our lives doing good.

This is the beginning of that story.