I didn't say goodbye.
There was no final message, no dramatic exit, no "take care" lingering between us.
I just… stopped showing up.
At first, I told myself it was temporary. A break. Space. Something mature people take when things start to feel heavier than they expected.
But the truth was simpler.
I ran. Not from him.
From what I was starting to feel around him.
The trip came at the right time.
College group. Loud people. Louder music. The kind of chaos that doesn't ask questions.
I let myself dissolve into it.
Laugh when everyone laughed. Sit where there was space. Talk when someone talked to me.
That's where I saw him again.
Dhruv.
My old almost-something.
The kind of person who once meant a lot, and then slowly became nothing—without any real ending. We started talking like no time had passed.
It was easy with him.
Too easy.
By the third day, we had slipped into a rhythm.
Walking together without planning to. Sitting next to each other without asking. Sharing small things- songs, jokes, pieces of who we used to be.
There was no tension.
No weight.
No fear of saying the wrong thing and maybe that's why I didn't notice when the distance between us started disappearing.
That night was colder than the others.
Most people had gone inside. The noise had died down to a faint echo behind closed doors.
We stayed outside.
Just sitting there, breath visible in the air.
He looked at me differently.
Not like someone remembering the past.
Like someone considering a future.
"You've changed," he said.
"So have you."
It wasn't a flirt. It wasn't even a moment.
Just a line that opened a door.
He moved closer.
Slow enough for me to stop him.
I didn't.
His lips met mine- warm against the cold, steady, certain.
For a second… I let it happen.
Because it felt simple.
Because it didn't demand anything from me.
Because I didn't have to think.
His hand tightened slightly, pulling me closer.
And that's when something broke through.
Not the moment.
A memory.
A voice.
Tell me a story I can stay in…
My own words.
But they didn't belong to this.
They never did.
I pulled away.
Too quickly.
"I can't," I said.
He frowned slightly. "What happened?"
I shook my head.
"Nothing."
And that was the problem.
I left before he could ask anything else.
Didn't go back.
Didn't explain.
Some stories don't need closure.
They just need to stop before they turn into something they were never meant to be.
When I returned, I walked into the office like nothing had happened.
Same desk. Same screens. Same unfinished drafts.
Only I wasn't the same.
"Salary's delayed again?" I asked HR, more irritated than concerned.
She gave me the usual explanation. Processing delays. Next cycle. Standard corporate lullabies.
I nodded, already distracted.
Because across the room-
He was there.
Ayan.
Standing near the window.
Laughing.
Not the quiet smile I was used to. Not the half-hidden amusement that never reached his eyes.
This was different.
Open.
Unrestricted.
Alive.
For a moment, I thought- his book must've been published.
That kind of happiness.
Then I saw who he was talking to.
Her.
Khwaish.
It took a second for the name to settle in my head.
And then-
It hit.
That Khwaish.
The one he once mentioned like a footnote.
Fifteen days Situationship..A half-formed connection.
Something that ended before it even began.
And now she was here, Sitting in his space.
Laughing like she had never left anything unfinished.
I approached him later.
"Hey."
He barely glanced at me.
"I'm busy," he said. "If it's work, talk to the new intern."
Just like that.
Clean. Distant. Final.
The new intern.
Of course.
We ended up talking.
Just the two of us.
Two hours.
About him.
"He wasn't my type," she said casually.
Then her gaze drifted across the room to where he stood.
"But look at him now."
There was something in her voice.
Not regret.
Recognition.
Like she was looking at a version of him she hadn't expected to exist.
That night- I drank. Not socially. Not casually. Carelessly.
And somehow…
I called Dhruv.
He came.
Didn't ask why. Didn't make it complicated.
Just picked me up, brought me home, and made sure I didn't fall on the way to my room.
Morning came with a headache and fragments of memory.
I called him.
"Did something happen last night?"
A pause.
Then-
"No."
Simple. Clear.
I exhaled.
"Thanks."
That chapter closed itself quietly.
The next day-
Office. Routine. Pretending.
Until I saw them again.
Ayan.
Khwaish.
Together.
Talking like the space between them had always belonged there.
Something inside me twisted.
Sharp. Sudden. Uncomfortable.
Jealousy.
I walked away before it showed.
Sat at my desk.
Dialed my therapist.
"I kissed someone," I said.
Pause.
"And?"
"It didn't mean anything."
"And Ayan?"
I hesitated.
"…he does."
She didn't respond immediately.
Then-
"You're not confused about your feelings," she said.
"You're confused about your boundaries."
I stayed silent.
"You chose something easy," she continued.
"But you're attached to something difficult."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means you already know which one matters."
Lunch. Same day.
They were sitting together.
Again.
I don't remember deciding to walk toward them.
Only the moment my hand slipped.
Juice spilled across her shirt.
"What the hell?" she snapped.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly.
Ayan stood up.
Didn't look at me.
Didn't say anything.
He took out his handkerchief and started cleaning the stain from her shirt.
Carefully.
Like it mattered.
That was enough.
"I don't feel well," I muttered.
And then-
Darkness.
When I opened my eyes-
I was in his arms.
He carried me to the medical room without hesitation.
Like instinct.
Like memory.
He placed me down.
Looked at me-annoyed, controlled.
"What's wrong with you?"
I didn't answer.
"Are you jealous?" he asked. "Because of Khwaish?"
Silence.
"We're not dating," he said. "You've got the wrong idea."
I watched him.
"I don't even remember that phase properly," he added. "I was immature. She doesn't matter now."
That should've fixed something.
It didn't.
"Just act normal," he said.
And turned.
"Sorry… Ayan…"
My voice barely held.
He paused.
Didn't look back.
"Don't repeat this."
And left.
That evening-
On my way home-
I saw Dhruv.
With someone else.
Holding her hand like it belonged there.
And I smiled.
Not out of pain.
Out of clarity.
Because now-
There was no confusion left.
No alternatives.
No escape routes.
Only him.
I stepped forward.
Didn't look at the road.
Didn't think.
And—
Everything went black.