The excitement of results had faded. April had arrived like a lazy guest—bringing long, hot days and nothing to do. With exams over and no strict routine to follow, their lives suddenly felt too… free.
And when you give overthinkers too much free time?
Chaos begins.
Ruhan had started spending more time with his school friends. Gaming late at night, scrolling endlessly, sometimes replying late to Siya's messages—something he never used to do.
At first, she ignored it.
Then she noticed it.
"Why were you online at 2 AM but didn't reply to my 'goodnight'?"
"You used to call me before sleeping, what happened now?"
To which he casually replied,
"Arrey, I was just tired. Chill na, Siya. Don't overthink everything."
And that one word—"overthink"—lit a spark in her chest.
She didn't say much. But the silence between texts grew. The calls became shorter. His voice didn't feel the same.
One day, while video calling him, she noticed he didn't smile much. She tried cracking jokes, making funny faces—nothing.
"Why are you so cold these days?" she finally asked, her voice trembling.
Ruhan sighed,
"Yaar, I just want some space. Don't get me wrong. I love you, but sometimes you behave like I'm your property. I need some time for myself too."
And those words?
They hit her like a punch.
That night, Siya didn't cry.
She stared at her ceiling fan for hours, wondering,
"Is he falling out of love? Did I do too much? Or maybe… I expected too much?"
She didn't sleep.
Didn't eat much the next day.
And still, she texted him:
"I'm sorry if I made you feel trapped. I just… love you too much. Maybe I forgot to breathe without you."
Ruhan read the message.
But didn't reply immediately.
Three hours.
Five hours.
Seven.
She stared at the screen, her heart aching like an unanswered prayer.
Later that night, he finally texted:
"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to make you feel alone. Let's talk tomorrow?"
But the damage was done.
The next day, they met.
In the same lane where they once held hands and shared candy floss during Durga Puja.
They didn't hug.
Ruhan said softly, "I don't want to fight. But I need you to trust me more."
Siya's eyes welled up.
"And I need you to care more."
For the first time, there was no romantic music playing in their background. No butterflies. No stolen kisses.
Just two people trying to understand love in a real, raw, messy way.
That day didn't end with roses.
It ended with quiet.
But sometimes, quiet is necessary—to hear each other better.