chapter 2

The train journey was surprisingly peaceful.

Which honestly scared Priya more.

Because in her life, peace usually meant:

“Congratulations, bigger problems are loading…”

At night, some small kids entered her compartment and started staring at her snacks like hungry detectives.

One tiny boy climbed near her seat and asked seriously—

Boy:

“Akka… are those biscuits for sharing or for showing off?”

Priya blinked.

“These children are sharper than income tax officers.”

Five minutes later, she somehow became the unofficial train babysitter.

One child stole her chips.

Another stole her pillow.

One little girl forced Priya to play “teacher-teacher.”

And somehow…

Priya failed in her own imaginary class.

At one point, the kids even wrapped her with a shawl and said—

Kids:

“You are train grandma now.”

Priya almost cried.

“I’m too young for this disrespect.”

Still…

She laughed.

Laughed so much that for one night she forgot everything.

Forgot betrayal.

Forgot Kayal.

Forgot death.

Forgot Ram’s heartbreak.

For the first time after returning…

She felt alive again.

The next morning, the train finally reached the village station.

Priya stepped down confidently with her bag.

Then…

Silence.

The entire station looked at her.

Priya looked at them.

Then slowly looked at herself.

Pink striped overshirt.

White crop top.

Wide-leg jeans.

White sneakers.

Cute city-girl vibes.

Meanwhile the village people around her looked straight out of:

“Traditional Family Festival — Season 4.”

Women wore beautiful sarees with jasmine flowers.

Men walked around in white veshti like background music should automatically play for them.

And Priya?

She looked like someone accidentally dropped a Pinterest influencer into a Tamil village serial.

One old aunty adjusted her glasses and stared at Priya’s jeans like it personally insulted her ancestors.

Another aunty whispered loudly—

Aunty:

“Aiyo… cloth shortage ah?”

Priya looked down at her full-length jeans.

“Where exactly is the shortage, aunty?”

One small kid pointed at her shoes excitedly.

Kid:

“Amma! Foreign akka!”

Priya gasped dramatically.

“FOREIGN?! I came from Chennai, not Canada!”

Then came the final attack.

A random village uncle looked at her suitcase and asked—

Uncle:

“Are you staying here for marriage… or opening a branch office?”

Priya slowly closed her eyes.

Wonderful.

Last life she died here.

This life she would first die from embarrassment.

As Priya stood there getting judged by the entire village population for simply existing in jeans, an old grandmother suddenly walked toward the crowd.

The grandmother looked at Priya from head to toe and smiled warmly.

Grandmother:

“Aiyo, why are you all staring at the girl like she came from another planet?

She looks very pretty only.”

Priya immediately felt emotional.

Finally.

One supportive citizen.

The grandmother lightly hit one aunty’s shoulder.

Grandmother:

“Instead of gossiping, help her with the bags. Poor thing is struggling.”

Priya looked at her giant suitcase.

Honestly, the suitcase itself deserved its own train ticket.

She tried lifting it again dramatically.

Big mistake.

The bag moved.

Priya didn’t.

Then suddenly—

Her foot slipped.

Priya:

“Aiyoooo—!”

Before she could fall face-first and create a new humiliation memory, strong hands caught her instantly.

Everything froze for a second.

Priya slowly looked up.

And her soul almost left her body again.

Ram.

Ram Kumar.

Standing right in front of her.

Looking exactly the same.

Calm eyes.

Sharp features.

White shirt.

Dangerously handsome for no reason at 8 in the morning.

Priya forgot breathing existed.

Meanwhile Ram calmly held her by the waist and made her stand properly.

Like this wasn’t the second biggest shock of her life.

The first one being:

“Congratulations, you’re dead.”

Priya stared at him blankly.

Ram slightly frowned.

Ram:

“Careful.”

His deep voice snapped her back to reality.

Priya immediately jumped away from him like touching him was illegal.

Or dangerous.

Which honestly… emotionally, yes.

She tried maintaining distance with full dignity.

But destiny looked at her and laughed.

Because her long hair got stuck in his shirt button.

Silence.

Pure suffering silence.

Priya closed her eyes slowly.

“Wonderful.”

“Even my hair wants this man.”

She carefully tried pulling it away.

Big mistake again.

Priya:

“Ow ow ow—!”

Ram sighed softly, trying not to smile.

Ram:

“Stop moving.”

Priya froze dramatically like a criminal caught red-handed.

Ram gently untangled her hair from his button carefully, making sure not to hurt her.

And Priya?

Priya’s heartbeat was doing full kuthu dance inside her chest.

Because in her previous life…

This man loved her silently through all her hatred.

And she only realized it after losing everything.

The moment Ram finally freed her hair, Priya immediately stepped back.

Too fast.

Almost falling again.

Ram held her arm instantly.

Again.

At this point, gravity itself was shipping them.

Before Priya could embarrass herself further, she suddenly heard a familiar scream.

Kritika:

“PRIYAAAAAA!”

Priya turned instantly.

Kritika came running toward her dramatically like they were reuniting after war.

Technically…

They were.

Priya quickly went toward her best friend.

Kritika:

“You came! Finally! And why are you standing with Ram anna like a movie scene?”

Priya almost choked.

Priya:

“Nothing! I almost died.”

Then she paused.

“…Again.”

Kritika:

“What?”

Priya:

“NOTHING.”

Kritika grabbed Priya’s hand and started dragging her away from the station while continuously talking non-stop.

Priya slowly turned back one last time.

Ram was still standing there.

Looking at her quietly.

Not angry.

Not cold.

Just… watching her.

The same way he always used to.

Their eyes met for a brief second.

Priya quickly turned away and started walking faster.

But that tiny panicked reaction made Ram smile softly.

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