But you know what?
Life has a very irritating habit of giving you second chances— right when you’ve already accepted the ending.
I never believed in destiny.
Or fate.
Or “what’s meant to be will find its way back.”
Honestly?
It all sounded like something people say to feel better about bad timing.
But then—
This happened.
Meena’s family started looking for a match for her.
Her father’s health had gotten worse, and the pressure was everywhere—relatives, expectations, emotional blackmail… the full package.
And Meena?
She said yes.
Of course she did.
Because she’s the kind of person who can silently carry the weight of an entire family… without letting it show.
The same girl who never complained about extra office work…
How could she ever go against her own family?
She couldn’t.
Marriage proposals came one after another like a ton of bees to that one beautiful flower.
Photos.
Names.
Biodata.
Even I reject a lot too with my aunt and uncle.
And Meena rejected almost all of them.
Calmly.
Politely.
Aunty, if reading the name of a man sent by different relatives and family members, until one name came—
Kabir, the name is enough for her; nothing else is needed.
She didn’t see his photo.
Didn’t ask questions.
She just… paused.
And then said yes.
Maybe because the name felt familiar.
Maybe because somewhere, deep down, her heart whispered something she didn’t fully understand.
Or maybe—
She thought it didn’t matter anymore.
The day of the meeting came.
A proper, traditional, slightly awkward family setup.
And obviously—
I was there.
Because if my best friend is walking into an arranged marriage meeting with zero emotional stability, I’m not letting her face that alone.
I remember sitting beside her, whispering,
“If he turns out weird, starts crying, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Meena didn’t even react.
She was too nervous.
And then—
He walked in.
Time stopped.
No exaggeration.
Just… stopped.
Kabir.
Not some random Kabir.
That Kabir Ahuja.
The same Kabir she has a crush on.
The one she never confessed to.
The one who never confessed to her.
The one they both lost… without even starting.
Meena’s fingers tightened around mine.
I looked at her.
She looked at him.
And in that one moment—
Everything they never said… was there.
Shock.
Pain.
Relief.
Anger.
All at once.
Families talked.
Formalities happened.
Smiles were exchanged.
But honestly?
No one in that room mattered anymore.
Because their story had just… come back to life.
They were sent to a room.
“Go talk,” the elders said.
Yeah.
Talk.
As if years of silence could be fixed with a polite conversation.
The moment the door closed—
Everything broke.
“Why did you leave without a word?” Kabir’s voice cracked first.
“Why didn’t you call?” Meena shot back, her eyes already filled with tears.
“I did! I called so many times!”
“I never got anything!”
“Then why didn’t you contact me at least once?”
“How can I try? What am I to you? What right do I have to call you?”
It wasn’t calm.
It wasn’t controlled.
It was messy.
Raw.
Real.
“You disappeared, Meena!” Kabir ran a hand through his hair, frustration spilling over.
“I thought you didn’t want me in your life!”
“And I thought you gave up!” she cried.
“I thought I didn’t matter enough for you to try harder!”
Silence.
Heavy.
Shaking.
“I never stopped,” he said softly.
Her breath hitched.
“Neither did I,” she whispered.
And that was it.
That one line.
That one truth.
Everything else… faded.
They stepped closer.
Slowly.
Like they were afraid this was another illusion.
Kabir looked at her like he had waited years for this exact moment.
“Meena…” his voice softened, breaking at the edges, “I’m still here.”
Her lips trembled.
“So am I.”
A pause.
Not empty—just full of everything they had never said.
Kabir lifted his hand, hesitating for a second… before gently tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
His fingers lingered, as if memorising her all over again.
“I liked you,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“From the very beginning… when you first joined the company.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“Do you remember your first week?”
Meena blinked through her tears.
“You spilt coffee on the conference file,” he continued softly, eyes warm now, “and you looked so terrified… like the world was ending.”
A broken laugh escaped her.
“You noticed that?”
“I noticed everything,” he said.
“The way you stayed late to fix it. The way you refused help. The way you said ‘I’ll manage’ even when you clearly couldn’t.”
His voice dropped, more intimate now—
“That’s when it started for me.”
Meena’s tears fell faster.
“I thought it was one-sided,” she whispered. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
“I liked you too… more than I should have. Every extra minute at work, every small conversation—”
Her voice cracked.
“I used to wait for those stupid coffee breaks… just to see you.”
Kabir smiled softly, almost in disbelief.
“I used to take those breaks because of you.”
Silence again—
But this time, it wasn’t heavy.
It was warm.
There was no hesitation.
He pulled her into a hug.
Tight.
Desperate.
Like if he let go, he’d lose her again.
Meena held onto him just as strongly, her fingers clutching his shirt, her face buried against him as she cried—
Not softly.
Not quietly.
But like all those years of silence, it was finally breaking out.
“I thought I lost you…” she whispered.
“You didn’t,” he murmured against her hair.
“Not again. Never again.”
Slowly, he pulled back—just enough to look at her.
His hand rose again, this time resting gently on her cheek.
And then—
He leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss against her forehead.
Not rushed.
Not uncertain.
But a promise.
Meena closed her eyes, her tears still falling—but this time, there was a quiet smile beneath them.
For a second—
It felt like he might kiss her.
Like everything in that room was leading to it.
But reality—
Families.
Walls.
Time.
So instead—
He rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing, their world shrinking down to just the two of them.
And asked, softly but firmly,
“Will you marry me?”
Meena didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t overanalyse like she always does.
She just—
Held him tighter.
And nodded against his shoulder.
“Yes.”
And outside the room?
Yeah.
I was there.
Of course, I was there.
Standing like a complete criminal—
Ear glued to the door and peeking through the small gaps between the windows.
Because let’s be honest,
Meena was never going to tell me all this herself.
And I had a responsibility.
To the story.
To the drama.
To myself.
And as I stood there, grinning like an idiot, listening to my two favourite emotionally confused humans finally get their act together—
I realised something.
“Maybe fate isn’t about magic”.
Maybe it’s just—
Two people finding their way back to each other…
No matter how badly they mess it up the first time.
To Be Continued… 👀
Listen to a Bollywood song while reading this.
My recommendation { Sitaare by Arijit Singh }