Episode 5: .......

Aarav’s absence didn’t make things quieter.

It made everything louder.

Every sound in the house—footsteps, voices, laughter—felt amplified to Meera. As if the walls themselves were asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

She moved through the day like someone underwater, hearing but not fully absorbing anything.

The folded note stayed hidden in her cupboard, inside the pages of her notebook.

She hadn’t read it again.

She didn’t need to.

Its words lived inside her now.

The groom arrived in the afternoon.

Rohan Sharma.

That was his name.

He entered the house with an easy smile, dressed neatly, confidence worn lightly—not forced, not arrogant. He greeted elders respectfully, listened more than he spoke, laughed at the right moments.

Everyone approved almost immediately.

Meera watched from a distance, her face calm, her heart restless.

When their eyes met for the first time, he smiled politely.

“Hi,” he said. “You must be Meera.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally.

The word made her uncomfortable, though she couldn’t explain why.

They were asked to talk privately.

Of course they were.

Meera led him to the side veranda, where sunlight filtered through thin curtains. The space felt strangely intimate, though nothing intimate had happened yet.

“So,” Rohan said, settling into the chair opposite her, “this feels… formal.”

She smiled faintly. “It usually is.”

He studied her face—not in a way that felt intrusive, but attentive. “If you don’t mind me asking… are you okay with this?”

The question caught her off guard.

“I—” She paused. “I don’t know yet.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”

There was a brief silence.

“You seem…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “elsewhere.”

Meera looked at him then—really looked. There was sincerity there. Not possession. Not entitlement.

“I have a lot on my mind,” she said honestly.

He smiled softly. “So do I.”

Something about his calmness unsettled her more than pressure would have.

That evening, Meera stood alone in her room, staring at her reflection.

She touched the chain around her neck absentmindedly.

What are you doing? she asked herself.

Aarav was gone.

No promises beyond words.

No certainty.

And here was someone real, present, offering something stable.

Her phone vibrated suddenly.

A message.

Unknown number.

Did the meeting happen?

—A

Her breath caught.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers hovering over the screen.

Yes.

The reply came almost immediately.

Are you okay?

She closed her eyes.

I don’t know.

This time, there was a pause.

Then—

I wish I was there.

Her chest tightened painfully.

So did she.

Over the next few days, Rohan stayed back due to “work flexibility.”

The house buzzed with approval.

He and Meera spoke more—about books, work, city life. He listened when she spoke. Remembered small things.

Once, when she mentioned liking old songs, he played one quietly on his phone the next time they talked.

“You pay attention,” she said.

He smiled. “I try.”

It would have been easier if she disliked him.

But she didn’t.

That scared her.

One afternoon, Meera received another message.

I’m coming back tomorrow.

Her heart skipped.

Why? she typed.

Because running doesn’t feel right anymore.

She stared at the screen.

Be careful, she replied.

I always am. Except with you.

She pressed the phone to her chest.

Aarav returned quietly, late at night.

The house was asleep.

Meera heard the gate creak.

She didn’t think.

She moved.

By the time she reached the corridor, he was there—standing under the dim light, travel bag at his feet.

They stared at each other.

“You came back,” she whispered.

“So did you,” he replied.

The distance between them felt unbearable.

They didn’t touch.

They didn’t need to.

“Rohan’s here,” she said softly.

“I know,” Aarav replied. “I saw his car.”

Silence stretched—thick, heavy, emotional.

“He’s… good,” she added.

Aarav nodded, jaw tightening. “That makes sense.”

“You don’t get to disappear and then feel jealous,” she said, voice trembling.

“I know,” he said. “But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.”

That honesty broke something inside her.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why come back now?”

He stepped closer—not touching, but close enough that she could feel his presence.

“Because the thought of you choosing someone else felt unbearable,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want my silence to make that choice for you.”

Her breath hitched.

“This isn’t fair,” she said.

“No,” he agreed. “But it’s real.”

For a moment—just a moment—she leaned into him, forehead resting against his chest.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t hold her.

Didn’t push her away.

Just existed with her in that fragile space.

Then she stepped back.

“We can’t,” she said.

He nodded, pain flickering across his face. “I know.”

But the damage was done.

The next day, Rohan noticed.

He noticed the way Meera’s attention drifted. The way she seemed emotionally elsewhere.

That evening, he said gently, “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

Her heart dropped.

“I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said calmly. “But I need honesty.”

She looked at him, guilt flooding her.

“Yes,” she admitted. “There is.”

He absorbed the truth quietly.

“Does he know about me?” Rohan asked.

“Yes.”

“And does he want you?”

She hesitated.

“Yes.”

Rohan leaned back, exhaling slowly.

“I don’t want to be a compromise,” he said. “And you shouldn’t have to choose under pressure.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled sadly. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Whatever you choose… choose it fully.”

That night, Meera stood on the terrace again.

Phone in her hand.

Two names in her mind.

One safe.

One dangerous.

One present.

One impossible.

Below, Aarav waited near the gate, looking up.

She met his gaze.

And for the first time—

She didn’t know which way to go.

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