The confrontation I feared finally came.
It was late evening in the hostel when Sneha walked into the room. Her eyes were red, her face tired, but her anger was still alive. She didn't sit. She didn't greet me.
She just stood there.
"So," she said coldly, "you got what you wanted."
I felt my throat tighten.
"Sneha, please—" I started, but she interrupted me immediately.
"You knew," she said. "You knew I loved Het. And still, you said yes."
Her words cut deep.
"That's not true," I said quietly. "I never knew you loved him. You always denied it."
She laughed bitterly.
"And you expect me to believe that? Everyone in the class knew. Only you pretended not to."
Tears rolled down my face.
"I swear," I said, my voice breaking, "I never planned any of this. I never tried to come between you and Het."
But Sneha was no longer listening.
"You humiliated me," she said. "In front of the whole class. You took away everything."
That was when something inside me broke.
"You left me first," I said, finally finding my voice.
"You stopped talking to me. You accused me without asking the truth. You insulted me in front of everyone—for a boy."
Silence fell between us.
Then she turned away.
"I don't want to see you again," she said.
And just like that, she walked out of my life.
That night, I cried until my eyes burned.
But the pain didn't end there.
The next day, I saw Smit standing alone near the corridor. The same Smit who once smiled whenever he saw me. Now, his eyes were full of anger and hurt.
I later heard what had happened.
Smit had fought with Het.
"You knew I loved her," he had shouted.
"You knew what she meant to me. And still, you proposed to her in front of everyone."
Het tried to explain, but Smit refused to listen.
From that day on, Smit stopped talking to Het completely.
Another friendship shattered—because of me.
And I was left questioning everything.
The truth I never said out loud was this:
I didn't know if I loved Het.
I still don't know.
What I knew was that I was hurt.
I was angry.
I felt betrayed.
When Sneha left me and blamed me in front of everyone, something inside me wanted revenge—not loudly, not cruelly, but silently.
So when Het proposed, I didn't stop to understand my heart.
I just said yes.
I told myself, "I never did anything wrong. He proposed to me. I didn't ask for it."
But deep inside, I knew I hadn't been honest—with myself or with him.
Het tried to be caring.
He tried to talk.
He tried to make me smile.
But every time he held my hand, guilt followed.
Every time he smiled, Sneha's tears appeared in my mind.
Every time someone mentioned Smit, my chest felt heavy.
This relationship had started with confusion, not clarity.
With pain, not certainty.
And I wondered—
Can something that begins as revenge
ever turn into real love?
Or was I already losing myself
trying to prove that I wasn't wrong?
The board exams were getting closer.
Books were open.
But my heart was louder than my mind.
And somewhere between friendships broken, emotions confused, and a love I didn't yet understand,
I realized—
This was only the beginning of the hardest chapter of my life.