Chapter 33: chapter 33

Chapter 33 – The days passed, not in dramatic turns of course, but in quiet fragments—texts exchanged between classes, calls that stretched into the night, and moments when silence spoke louder than words. It wasn’t the whirlwind romance of the past; it was slower now, steadier. More fragile.And somehow, more real. Saurabh kinda love it Sourabh found himself looking forward to the small things again. The way her name appeared on his phone. The sound of her laugh, even if muffled through a weak signal. The way she still said his name like it meant something.They didn’t talk about what they were. Not yet. But the space between them no longer felt like a void. It was something they were learning to fill—carefully, piece by piece.It was a Friday evening when her message arrived:“I might be coming to your city next week. Just two days. Office training. Not sure yet. But… maybe.”Sourabh’s pulse quickened. He read the message twice, then a third time.Maybe.He wanted to call her immediately. Ask for dates, times, details. But he didn’t. He knew better now. He simply replied:“Let me know. I’d really like to see you.”A minute later, she sent: “Me too.”The next few days felt suspended in anticipation. It was a strange mix of hope and restraint. He didn’t tell anyone. Not even his roommate. This wasn’t something to be dissected under casual conversation. It felt sacred. Uncertain, but sacred.Then, on Wednesday evening, her name lit up his screen again.“It’s confirmed. I’m landing Friday morning. Leaving Saturday evening.”One and a half days.Not enough!Too much!Everything!Friday arrived under a pale sun. Sourabh barely slept. He had replayed their last meeting so many times that the memory had become worn at the edges. And now, it was happening again. In real life. Not a memory. Not a hope.He met her outside a modest business hotel tucked away on a quiet street, her suitcase in one hand, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.For a moment, neither of them spoke.Then, slowly, she smiled. “Hi.”“Hi,” he said, his voice catching on the word.They didn’t hug. Not yet. But they stood close enough to feel the pull.“You look…” he started, then shook his head. “You look like you.”She laughed softly. “So do you.”They walked without deciding where to go, the city unfolding around them like a familiar page. They stopped for chai at a roadside stall, their elbows brushing as they leaned against the counter. She stirred her tea absentmindedly.“This feels strange,” she said quietly.“I know,” he replied. “But good.”She nodded. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”“I’m glad you did.”They sat in the corner of a quiet café afterward, sharing a slice of cake neither of them was hungry for. The conversation drifted from mundane to meaningful, from laughter to long silences.Finally, she looked at him.“I don’t know what happens after this,” she said. “I don’t have a plan. I still don’t know what I’m doing most days.”“You don’t have to know,” he replied.“I don’t want to hurt you again.”“You didn’t hurt me,” he said. “You left. But you didn’t disappear. You came back.”Her eyes welled, but she blinked it away. “This isn’t easy for me.”“It’s not easy for me either.”They sat quietly, the weight of everything unsaid pressing between them.Then, softly, he added, “But I’m still here. And I still want to know what this could be.”She reached across the table, slowly, and placed her hand over his.A simple touch.But it felt like a beginning.The next day passed too quickly. A walk through the old city. An hour spent in a dusty bookshop. A quiet lunch in a sun-drenched courtyard.Time bent around them, at once fleeting and suspended.At the station, as the sun dipped low and the train’s engine hummed in the distance, they stood facing each other.“I don’t want this to feel like goodbye again,” she said.“Then don’t make it one,” he replied.She stepped forward and rested her head briefly against his chest. His arms came around her without hesitation.No promises. No declarations.Just presence.Just now.“I’ll call you when I get there,” she whispered.“I’ll wait.”As the train pulled away, Sourabh stood still on the platform, watching until she disappeared from view. There was a quiet ache in his chest, but it wasn’t the same as before.This wasn’t an ending.It was a return.A slow, uncertain, but deeply real return.