Chapter 3: When Comfort Turned Into Silence

Without realising it, he and I grew incredibly close. It wasn’t sudden, but it was slowly weaving itself into my everyday life until he became a part of my routine. We were both staying in hostels then, which somehow made everything feel easier and more intimate. After college ended at 1:15 every afternoon, we would walk back together to our hostels. The afternoons were quiet; we would rest for a while, letting the exhaustion of classes fade away. By evening, without even having to plan it, we would meet again for coffee and snacks which became our unspoken ritual.

Every day followed the same pattern, and that consistency brought me a strange sense of peace. After coffee, I would drop him back at his hostel and then return to mine. It felt natural, effortless, like something I had been doing all my life, even though it was all so new to me. There were small details that made these moments special things that might seem insignificant to others but meant the world to me. I never liked the thick milk cream that floated on top of my coffee, and he would drink that milk cream from my coffee and give it to me, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about how closely he observed me, how much he cared in his own quiet way.

Nights were reserved for conversations. No matter how tired we were, we would talk before sleeping about the day, about random thoughts, about nothing and everything at once. Those conversations became my comfort, the part of the day I looked forward to the most. Somewhere between those late-night calls and shared silences, he slowly became my safe place.

Then came the days when he wasn’t feeling well. His health started troubling him, and seeing him like that made me worry in ways I had never worried about anyone outside my family. One day, during a call, he sounded like he wanted to ask me something. He hesitated, paused mid-sentence, and then suddenly stopped. That silence stayed with me long after the call ended. I couldn’t understand why he was holding back, why he was overthinking before asking me something. It unsettled me, because by then, I believed there was nothing he couldn’t share with me.

Later, he finally told me what he wanted to ask. He asked if I could wash his clothes for him since he wasn’t well. Without thinking twice, I said yes. I knew he wasn’t keeping well, and I genuinely wanted to help. That moment remains etched in my memory, because it was the first and last time in my life I washed a boy’s clothes. And it was his. I didn’t see it as a favour or a burden; I saw it as care, as something you do for someone who matters.

Days passed like this, wrapped in closeness and routine, until things slowly began to change. Arguments started appearing out of nowhere. Small misunderstandings turned into frequent fights. Despite everything, no matter how hurt I was, I would still go and talk to him. I never knew how to stay away from him. On May 7, I finally asked him something that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I told him that the way I kept begging him, the way I kept holding on, was becoming painful for me. I asked him why things had become so difficult between us.

His response shattered something inside me. He said that seeing me beg like that hurt him, but then he added words I never expected to hear, he told me that we should stop talking altogether. Just like that. As if everything we shared could be erased with one sentence.

After hurting me like that in the morning, The same night, he called me. But I didn’t answer. I blocked him. Maybe it was my last attempt at protecting myself, at holding on to whatever dignity I had left. He tried again from two new numbers but I stayed silent. I told myself that I should never speak to him again, that I should forget he ever existed in my life. I convinced myself that forgetting him was the only way I could survive the pain he had caused.

I believed that was the end. I truly thought that chapter of my life had closed for good.

But fate had other plans.

Just when I thought the story was over, destiny decided to play its cruelest game with us. What followed next was something I never expected something that would change everything all over again.

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