Morning sunlight slipped through the thin curtains, painting faint golden lines across Ananya's room. Her phone buzzed softly on the desk beside her — a notification from Aarav, just a simple "Good morning ❤️." Yet even those two words could make her heart flutter as if they were poetry.
She smiled, texting back quickly, "Good morning, sleepyhead. Get up, or you'll be late again!"
Their mornings had started like this for months — little messages, inside jokes, and the comfort of belonging to each other. Aarav had become a part of her daily rhythm. His voice was the first she heard each morning and often the last before sleep. To her, he wasn't just a boyfriend — he was home, warmth, and the promise of something lasting.
But promises sometimes crumble quietly, without warning.
That day felt no different at first. Classes passed as usual; Ananya laughed with friends, her mind often wandering to what Aarav might be doing. They had planned to meet after college, just like always. He had said he'd bring her favorite coffee and something he wanted to show her — though he'd been unusually vague about what it was.
When she finally saw him near the college gate, her heart lifted instantly. Aarav stood there in his casual denim jacket, phone in hand, smirking at something on his screen. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, and the sight was enough to make her forget how tiring her day had been.
"Hey," she said, walking up to him, smiling.
"Hey, Anu," he said, locking his phone quickly and slipping it into his pocket.
"You're late," she teased.
He shrugged. "Traffic."
She rolled her eyes. "You walk here, Aarav."
He laughed. "Fine, fine. I overslept."
They started walking toward the garden — their favorite spot near campus. The air smelled faintly of rain, and a soft breeze rustled the trees around them. For a few minutes, it felt perfect again, like every other day they had shared.
Then, playfully, she said, "Give me your phone, let me pick our next selfie spot."
Aarav froze for the slightest second — enough for her to notice. "Why?" he asked too quickly.
Ananya blinked, still smiling. "Because I want to choose the place! You always hide your photos like it's a secret mission."
"Not today," he said, forcing a chuckle. "Battery's low."
She tilted her head. "You were literally using it just now."
He looked away. "Yeah, I was just… checking something important."
Something inside her shifted. It wasn't anger — more like confusion wrapped in unease. Aarav wasn't usually like this. He used to hand her his phone without a thought, laughing at her silly photos or random messages. But now there was a strange guardedness in his eyes.
"Fine," she said softly. "Keep your secrets."
"Anu—" he started, but she waved it off, trying to smile. "I'm joking. Don't get so serious."
Still, the laughter didn't return to her eyes.
They spent the next hour talking about random things — college assignments, movies, and plans for the weekend — but a quiet distance hung between them. Aarav seemed distracted, his eyes flicking to his phone every few minutes. Ananya noticed it all, even though she didn't say anything. She laughed at his jokes, nodded at his stories, but part of her mind stayed fixed on that locked phone.
When they finally said goodbye for the evening, Aarav hugged her briefly and said, "Don't overthink, okay? You're my girl. Always."
She smiled faintly. "Always."
But that word — always — suddenly didn't feel as steady as it used to.
That night, she couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed scrolling through old photos of them — their first coffee date, the time they got drenched in the rain, the scribbled notes he used to write on tissue paper. Every memory looked perfect, yet something inside her refused to calm down.
Why had he hidden his phone? Why had he looked so nervous?
She shook her head, trying to convince herself she was being silly. He loves me. He always has.
But even love needs trust, and trust was beginning to crack.
Hours passed. The moonlight faded, replaced by the dull blue of dawn. Ananya's phone stayed silent. No late-night "good night" message, no random emoji, no call. She checked his last seen — 1:47 a.m. He had been online but hadn't texted her.
Her chest tightened. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe she was just overthinking.
Maybe.
But the mind doesn't rest when the heart begins to doubt.
The next morning, she met her best friend Meera at college. Meera noticed the unease instantly.
"You didn't sleep well, did you?" she asked, sipping her cold coffee.
Ananya forced a smile. "Just… had a long night."
Meera raised an eyebrow. "Problems with Aarav?"
Ananya hesitated. "No. I mean, not really. Just something weird yesterday."
"Tell me."
"He didn't let me touch his phone."
"That's all?" Meera laughed lightly. "Maybe it was private. Don't read too much into it."
"Maybe…" Ananya said, though her voice was small.
Meera leaned closer. "Listen, you love him. But love doesn't mean you stop seeing things clearly. Just be careful, okay?"
Ananya nodded. She knew Meera was right — love shouldn't blind you. But how could she imagine anything wrong with Aarav? The boy who'd waited for her for months, who'd held her hand through everything, who had promised her a lifetime.
She wanted to trust him. She needed to trust him.
And yet, deep down, a tiny voice whispered — what if he's not the same anymore?
That night, she called him.
He didn't answer.
She waited five minutes, then called again. Still nothing.
Her stomach twisted. She stared at the phone, hoping it would light up with his name. Finally, a message appeared — "Busy, will call later."
Her heart sank. Busy with what? she thought.
But she typed only, "Okay."
Hours passed. No call.
For the first time in their relationship, she didn't send a goodnight message.
The next few days passed quietly, almost too quietly.
Aarav still met her, still smiled, still said "I love you"—but something in his eyes had changed. It was a distant kind of warmth, like sunlight filtered through smoke.
Ananya tried to ignore it. She told herself he was stressed, that college work or friends were keeping him distracted. She didn't want to be the clingy girlfriend who questioned everything. She wanted to be his peace, not his pressure.
But love, when it's real, notices every tremor.
On Wednesday evening, she waited near the library gate where they usually met after class. The benches were half-empty, the air heavy with the smell of rain.
He was late again. Ten minutes. Fifteen.
She scrolled through their old chat while waiting—the early messages, the heart emojis, the long late-night paragraphs about dreams and forever. Each word felt like a promise carved into her memory.
Her phone buzzed: Aarav — Can't come today. Something urgent.
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Everything okay? she typed.
Yeah yeah, nothing serious.
That was it. No explanation. No "miss you."
She stared at the screen for a full minute before slipping the phone into her bag. The rain started, soft at first, then heavy enough to blur everything around her. She didn't run for cover. She just sat there, letting the water hide the sting in her eyes.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the city, Aarav leaned against his bike outside a café. Riya was there—bright, cheerful, talking about a family event. They had met by coincidence at first, through a family visit months ago, and somehow their conversations hadn't stopped since.
Riya was different—open, witty, easy to talk to. Aarav liked how she made him feel interesting again. Around her, he didn't have to play the perfect boyfriend. He could joke, flirt, laugh. She didn't know about Ananya, and he didn't bother to tell her.
His phone buzzed—Ananya's message from earlier—but he ignored it.
Riya laughed at something, and Aarav smiled back, sliding the phone into his pocket. "Sorry, just college stuff," he said when she asked.
It was a small lie, one of many that would follow.
Back in her room that night, Ananya tried to study, but every few minutes her eyes drifted to the phone. She had promised herself she wouldn't double-text, yet her thumb hovered over the chat window again and again.
When a notification finally lit up, her heart leapt—only to fall again. It wasn't him; it was Meera sending memes.
She smiled faintly but didn't reply.
At 11:42 p.m., her screen finally flashed Aarav typing…
Then it vanished.
Then again.
Then gone.
By midnight she gave up waiting.
The next morning she woke early, hoping maybe he'd message by then. Nothing.
She got ready for college, brushed her hair, picked a soft pink kurti—his favorite color—but her reflection in the mirror didn't smile back like it used to.
At college, Meera found her staring at her phone. "Still nothing?"
Ananya shook her head.
"Girl, I swear, you're glowing one month and dying the next. What's going on?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "Maybe I did something wrong."
Meera sighed. "If he loves you, he'll talk. If he doesn't, you'll know. Either way, stop blaming yourself."
Ananya tried to nod, but her chest hurt at the thought of "if he doesn't."
That evening Aarav finally called. His voice was cheerful, almost too cheerful.
"Hey babe! What's up?"
She wanted to sound normal. "Nothing. Just missed you."
"Aww, same here," he said lightly. "Sorry, I've just been… busy."
"With what?"
"Just some friends. You don't know them."
There was laughter in the background, a female voice maybe—it was faint but unmistakable. Ananya's heart skipped.
"Are you out?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, just grabbing coffee. I'll call later, okay?"
"Okay," she said, though the word cracked at the edges.
He hung up before she could say more.
For a few minutes she sat there, the silence after the call louder than any noise. Then, quietly, she whispered to herself, "He's probably just busy. It's fine."
But the whisper didn't convince even her own heart.
Over the next few weeks, their routine continued—but everything was different.
He replied slower.
He met her less.
He laughed less.
And when they did meet, his eyes were often somewhere else.
Ananya started noticing details she used to ignore—the way he smiled at his phone when she wasn't around, how he turned it upside-down on the table, how he suddenly started wearing new shirts and using a different cologne.
Little things, but love sees the little things first.
At night, she'd hold her pillow close, whispering his name like a prayer, asking the universe not to take him away.
One Saturday, Meera convinced her to go shopping to distract herself. They were in a café when Meera's phone rang. She excused herself for a minute, leaving Ananya alone at the table.
Ananya sipped her coffee absent-mindedly, scrolling through social media.
That's when a new post appeared—Riya's.
A selfie at a café. Same background. Same moment.
And there, barely visible in the reflection of the glass door behind her—Aarav.
Ananya's breath caught. The world seemed to still.
She zoomed in.
There was no mistake. It was him.
Her hands trembled as she locked her phone. Tears filled her eyes before she even understood why.
When Meera returned, she quickly wiped them away. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," she lied. "Just something in my eye."
But inside, a thousand thoughts screamed. Why was he there? Why didn't he tell me? Who is she to him?
That night she didn't confront him. She couldn't. Her heart wasn't ready to hear an answer that might break it.
Instead, she stayed up again, scrolling through their old chats, rereading every "I love you," every "you're my everything."
And for the first time, those words felt like lies printed in her memory.
The moon was already high when Ananya finally put her phone aside.
Her room was quiet except for the ticking clock on the wall. Each second felt heavier, echoing her heartbeat. She wanted to believe that it was all a coincidence — that Aarav was busy, that Riya was just a friend, that the reflection she saw in the photo didn't mean anything.
But a single thought refused to leave her mind.
Why does love suddenly feel like guessing a secret?
Her heart ached, yet she couldn't hate him. Instead, she hated herself for doubting him. She hated that she was still hoping he'd call, still staring at the screen, waiting for his name to light up.
At 1:23 a.m., her phone finally buzzed.
Aarav.
For a moment, everything inside her stopped.
She picked up quickly. "Aarav?"
His voice was calm, careless. "Hey… sorry, was out with friends. You up this late?"
Her throat tightened. "Yeah… couldn't sleep."
"Don't overthink stuff, Anu," he said lightly. "I told you I'm busy these days. We'll meet soon, okay?"
She wanted to ask him about the café, about the girl, about the distance that had crept between them like fog. But the words stayed stuck behind her ribs.
"Okay," she whispered instead.
He laughed faintly. "Good girl. Sleep now."
The line went dead.
Ananya stared at her reflection in the dark phone screen. Her eyes were red, her lips trembling. She pressed the phone against her chest as if she could still hold the echo of his voice.
"I trust you, Aarav," she whispered. "Please don't make me regret it."
Outside, thunder rolled softly in the distance — not a storm yet, but a promise of one.
And somewhere across town, Aarav sat laughing at another message from Riya, unaware that the tiny crack in Ananya's heart was slowly widening into something that would change all three of their lives forever.