The rain had stopped, but the air still carried the damp chill of the early morning. Diya sat quietly in the taxi, her suitcase tucked in beside her, the hostel slowly fading behind as the car pulled onto the main road. Harsh had come to see her off, and she'd appreciated the gesture, but it hadn't calmed the restlessness growing in her chest.
Because Maddy hadn't come.
He had said he wanted to meet her that morning. And she knew he was sick—his fever still lingering, his voice hoarse. But he came anyway. In the rain.
And she had left.
In her panic, overwhelmed by Harsh's persistent calls to finish packing, she had rushed away. Maddy hadn't even finished what he wanted to say. She didn't even turn back.
Five minutes later, guilt had kicked in like a punch to the chest. She had returned to the same spot—out of breath, heart in her throat—but Maddy was gone. The bench was empty. The rain had washed away any trace of him.
Now, in the backseat of the cab, that hollow feeling grew stronger.
She tried calling. No response.
Again.
Again.
Her hands shook a little as she held the phone. And then it rang.
It was Rahul—one of Maddy's quieter friends.
"Diya," he snapped, voice sharp, "what the hell happened?"
"What?" she asked, confused and tense.
"Maddy came to see you. In the rain. He had a fever, Diya. He waited, and you walked off like it meant nothing. He broke down. Cried in front of all of us. Then he broke his phone and blocked you."
Her heart dropped. "No. No, I didn't mean to. I just… Harsh called. I panicked. I thought I was running late. I came back! I swear I came back five minutes later but he wasn't there…"
She was rambling now, tears pooling in her eyes. "Please, Rahul. Please let me talk to him."
The other side was silent for a second. Then muffled movement.
And then she heard his voice.
"Diya?"
Her tears fell without warning.
"Maddy… I'm sorry. I didn't want to leave like that. I came back. You were gone."
"I thought you left because he called," Maddy said softly, his voice rough with illness and exhaustion. "Like you always listen to him first."
"I wasn't thinking straight. I just… I didn't want to miss the flight. But I didn't want to miss you either. That's why I came back."
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, it was gentler.
"It hurt, Diya. But I believe you."
She exhaled shakily.
"Just… go safely," he said. "We'll talk once you get home. I'll unblock you."
And with those simple words, something inside her stilled.
The confusion hadn't disappeared, the pain hadn't vanished—but the fear, the panic, the weight of the misunderstanding… it loosened.
Because despite everything, they had found their way back to each other, at least for now.
Even if they kept missing moments, they hadn't let go entirely.
Sometimes, that was enough.