The Sunday relationship offers a controlled burn. You can love fiercely within the boundary. You can be vulnerable because you know the reset button is pressed at midnight.

For those unfamiliar, Khushi Mukherjee is not just a contemporary author; she is a cartographer of emotional limbo. Over the last five years, she has carved out a niche in literary romance by focusing on a specific, pulsating dynamic: Through her celebrated short story cycles and her hit novel The Seventh Sunset , Mukherjee has dissected how love thrives (and sometimes fractures) when it is relegated to a single, sacred day of the week.

For three years, they meet every Sunday. No phone calls during the week. No emergency texts. No "I miss you" on a Tuesday.

As her upcoming novel, The Day Between , prepares for release in late 2025, speculation is rife that she will finally destroy the Sunday container. Rumors suggest the new protagonist will demand a Saturday. Or worse—a random Thursday afternoon.

What makes this work is Mukherjee’s refusal to villainize anyone. Dev knows about Kabir, but only as a "Sunday thing." The unspoken agreement is that Ira returns to her real life on Monday morning. But the tragedy unfolds when Kabir asks for a Tuesday. Just one Tuesday. For a picnic.