There love blossom but my confusion grow.
Actually the thing is…
I didn’t belong there.
Not in that office.
Not in those files, those meetings, those fake smiles over tea breaks.
I belonged somewhere else.
In stories.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” I told Meena one evening, my head resting dramatically on her shoulder like a tired main character.
“I don’t want this job. I want to write. Like… actually write.”
Meena didn’t even hesitate.
“Then leave.”
I lifted my head.
“That was too fast. At least pretend to think about my financial stability.”
She smiled softly.
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
And when I ask for Kabir suggestion.
He leaned back in his chair, watching me with that knowing look.
“You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”
“…maybe.”
“Then why are you asking?” he said.
Annoying.
Both of them.
But also—
Exactly what I needed.
Meena pushed me the most.
Like… scarily most.
At one point, I genuinely thought she had secretly taken a “How to emotionally motivate your best friend” course.
The way she supported me…
it reminded me of my mom.
And that says a lot.
Because my mom was the one who pushed me toward my dream college, who believed in me when I didn’t.
And now Meena?
She was doing the same.
I wanted to say thank you.
I really did.
But let’s be honest— saying “thank you” in a friendship like ours?
Illegal.
Emotionally embarrassing.
Absolutely not happening.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I made a decision.
After seeing Meena and Kabir together—standing a little too close, caring a little too much—I thought…
Yeah.
They’ll be okay.
So I left.
Quit my job.
Walked out of that company like a dramatic movie scene—except no background music, just HR paperwork.
And I started writing.
Life moved.
But Meena?
Meena stayed.
Not physically, but… constantly.
We talked all the time.
Calls.
Messages.
Random updates.
Mostly about Kabir.
Always Kabir.
“Today he brought me coffee.”
“Today he stayed late to help me.”
“Today he remembered something I said weeks ago…”
I’d roll my eyes every time.
“Wow. He’s basically in love with you,” I’d say.
“It’s not like that.”
Of course.
Because in their world, confession was a myth.
Kabir never said it.
Meena never said it.
And I—
I stopped interfering.
I thought… maybe they’ll figure it out on their own.
And then one day—
My phone rang.
Meena.
I saw her name flashing on the screen.
And I ignored it.
“Later,” I muttered, typing furiously.
“I’m in the middle of something.”
Because when I write, I disappear.
No calls.
No world.
Nothing exists.
Days passed.
When I finally checked my phone…
Something felt off.
Too many missed notifications.
Too much silence.
And then—
Kabir.
“She left the company.”
That’s what he said.
Just that.
No explanation.
No details.
“What do you mean she left?” I frowned.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, quieter than I had ever heard him.
“She’s not picking up my calls.”
That… wasn’t normal.
Not for Meena.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said quickly.
“Let me call her.
And this time—
I didn’t ignore it.
I called her like it was an emergency.
Because suddenly, it felt like one.
And when she didn’t picked up… so.
I call her home.
Everything changed.
Her father was sick.
Serious.
Bed rest.
Her brother was away.
No one else at home who could handle things.
So Meena stayed.
Of course she stayed.
That’s who she is.
She didn’t think twice.
I went to see her.
And the moment I saw her…
I felt it.
That sharp, uncomfortable guilt.
What kind of friend was I?
She needed me—and I was busy ignoring calls, chasing words.
Meena looked at me like I had said something stupid.
“Lily, stop it,” she said gently.
“You were working. That’s not a crime.”
“But still—”
“It’s okay.”
And just like that…
She forgave me.
Like she always does.
We started talking again.
Normally, I regularly visit her home.
Like nothing had changed.
And somewhere in between all this—
I forgot something.
No.
Someone.
Kabir.
Because I was in between my writing career, Meena family issues and my recent additions Aarav (my boyfriend).
He was trying to reach her.
Calling.
Messaging.
Waiting.
But Meena?
She never got anything.
Her phone had been lost in all the chaos.
Destroyed.
Gone.
She had to change it.
New number.
No access to old messages.
Nothing.
So from her side—
Silence.
From his side—
Rejection.
When the chaos started feeding a little.
Meena sat quietly one day and said, “Maybe… he’s disappointed.”
I frowned.
“Why would he be?”
“Because I didn’t respond,” she whispered.
( I forgot to tell her that kabir try to reach her because of my own chaos between Rahul and Aarav )
And Kabir?
He thought something else.
Maybe she’s going through something.
Maybe she doesn’t want me there.
Maybe I misunderstood everything.
And the worst part?
He had never confessed.
So he had no right—
At least in his mind—
To ask.
And just like that…
Without a fight.
Without a goodbye.
Without even a proper beginning—
They ended.
Two people, clearly in love…
Separated by silence, timing, and their own stupid hearts.
And me?
I stood there—
Watching it all fall apart—
Thinking the same thing over and over again:
If I had just picked up that call…
love always finds it’s way