CHAPTER XLIII
"The Goodbye I Couldn't Say"
I didn't say a word.
Not to Mon.
Not to Ashwin.
Not even to Mahi or Aarvi.
Without a sound, I turned away from that garden — from the scene that shattered every last bit of hope I'd carried in my chest.
And I walked.
One step. Then another.
And another.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of a thousand unsaid words clung to my ankles.
I didn't even know where I was going — just that I needed to go.
Anywhere but there.
I didn't tell anyone I was leaving.
Not Mahi, not Aarvi — not the people who had stood by me, supported me, followed me on this hopeless journey.
But in that moment… I wasn't thinking of them.
I wasn't thinking of anyone.
I was drowning.
The suffocation hit me like a wave.
Every breath burned.
My chest tightened with emotions I couldn't name — heartbreak, betrayal, shame, confusion… they all blended into one blur of agony.
So I just kept walking.
Down the narrow streets.
Past unfamiliar houses.
My vision blurred, not because of tears, but because I wasn't really seeing anything anymore.
I don't remember how long I walked.
Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.
Time didn't exist in that ache.
All I knew was that my feet eventually led me to the road leading back to the bus stand.
I hadn't even told Mon I was there.
I hadn't knocked on her door.
I hadn't called out her name.
The person I came to find — to finally talk to —
I was leaving without ever being seen.
And somewhere deep inside, that hurt more than anything else.
I stood still for a moment, in the middle of the empty road, and I could hear the storm inside my heart whispering something over and over again —
> "Recommend this heart for some mercy…"
"Let it find a rain so wild… so deep…
that it drowns in it completely."
Because sometimes the pain doesn't want healing —
it wants to be felt in its entirety.
It wants to consume you, to wash over every part of you,
until nothing remains but truth.
And the truth was…
I had come searching for something that maybe never existed the way I imagined it.
A piece of Mon that still belonged to me.
A space in her world that was still mine.
But watching her with him…
It told me everything I needed to know.
She had moved on.
And I?
I was still stuck in a moment that had long passed.
So I walked.
No goodbye.
No closure.
Just quiet steps back toward the bus stand,
carrying nothing but silence,
and the echo of a love that no longer had a place to live.
It was evening.
The sky, once just dull and heavy, had now turned an ominous grey.
The winds grew stronger, howling through the empty spaces around me, carrying with them the scent of rain — raw, metallic, and angry.
The weather wasn't just changing…
It was crumbling.
And maybe…
So was I.
Suddenly, the heavens split open, and the rain began.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
But wild. Relentless.
It poured as if the clouds had been holding back for too long —
Just like me.
Within minutes, the whole town was drenched, the streets disappearing under rising water.
The city issued a red alert.
Buses were halted.
Roads shut down.
People vanished indoors in search of safety.
But I?
I was sitting alone at the bus stand —
no shelter in my heart, no place to run.
Only silence and storm.
I pulled my knees to my chest, arms wrapped around myself like a poor attempt to feel whole again.
And then…
The thunder roared.
Lightning cracked open the sky like a scream from above.
And every time it did, I screamed too —
not out loud, not with words —
but from within.
The flashes of lightning were my curtain,
each one loud enough to mask the sound of my sobs.
Because I didn't want the world to hear me break.
I didn't want anyone to walk past and think,
"She's weak."
"She's hurting."
"She lost something she never even had the right to claim."
So I cried with the thunder.
I broke with the sky.
I drowned in the downpour.
> I wanted the storm to wash away everything —
the pain, the hope, the foolishness.
I wanted the water to carry away every trace of Mon's laughter from my memory,
every image of her beside him… smiling.
But pain has its own cruelty.
It doesn't wash off.
It sinks deeper.
And as I sat there, trembling from the cold — and something colder still inside me —
I realized this storm wasn't around me.
It was inside me.
Every clap of thunder was an echo of my heartbreak.
Every drop of rain was another word I never got to say.
Every gust of wind…
was a reminder of how far I had traveled
just to be left… right here.
Alone.
And though the entire city had stopped for the rain,
my heart had stopped long before that.
But no one noticed.
Because I was too good at hiding.
Too good at pretending strength
while I fell apart in secret.
To anyone walking by,
I was just a girl caught in the rain.
But to me?
I was a soul caught in a storm that had no end.
I didn't know how long I had been sitting there…
Soaked.
Shivering.
Shattered.
The world had blurred around me — not just because of the rain cascading down like a curtain, but because of the tears I had long since stopped trying to hide. My breath came in broken gasps, each inhale colder than the last, and I could feel my body beginning to tremble uncontrollably — not just from the cold, but from the ache within.
And that's when I heard her.
A voice — soft, unfamiliar, but clear enough to cut through the thunder.
> "If you keep crying like this out here… someone's going to get hurt — even if that someone is just you."
I looked up, startled, my face streaked with rain and grief.
A girl stood there, holding an umbrella, her eyes filled with concern — not curiosity, not pity… just genuine, human concern.
She took a cautious step toward me and said,
> "You'll catch a fever out here. And honestly? This storm isn't going to listen to your tears. Come… I live nearby. You can cry in the warmth. No one will hear you. No one will judge."
I shook my head immediately, the words catching in my throat.
> "No… please. Just go. I don't want to go anywhere."
She didn't leave.
She didn't sigh and walk away like most people would've.
Instead, she bent down to my level, rain soaking the hem of her jeans, and said something I didn't expect.
> "I'm not from here. I came from America recently — to stay with my mother. You don't know me, I get it. But I promise, I'm not dangerous. You don't have to trust my words…"
She reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and held it out to me.
> "Here. My phone. No password. Take it.
If I do anything you don't like — anything that makes you uncomfortable — call the police.
I won't stop you."
Her hands trembled slightly — from the cold, or maybe from nervousness — but her voice didn't waver.
Something about her… her honesty… her eyes…
It didn't feel forced.
It didn't feel fake.
And the truth was — I had no strength left to argue.
No strength to keep sitting in the middle of this storm, pretending I was okay.
So, without saying a word, I took the phone from her hand.
It was real.
Unlocked.
Open.
She smiled just a little and stood up, offering me her hand.
> "Come on. It's just a block away.
You don't have to talk.
You don't have to explain.
You just have to come in from the rain."
And I did.
Because sometimes, the kindness of a stranger can feel safer than the silence of someone you loved.
We walked slowly.
The rain still pouring around us.
She held the umbrella over me more than herself, her shoulders already damp, her fingers curled tightly around the handle.
And I?
I didn't say a word.
I just followed.
Not because I trusted her.
Not because I knew her.
But because in that moment…
She was the only one who saw me.
The only one who didn't walk away.
And sometimes, that's all it takes to move again —
Not love.
Not hope.
Just someone… who chooses to stand beside you in the storm.
To be continued…