After blocking Abhimanyu, Aditi thought it would feel like freedom.
But silence was lonelier than she imagined.
She spent her evenings curled up by the window, the city glowing softly outside. In her hands — the only place she felt safe anymore:
Her diary.
Not a digital one.Not a Notes app confession.A real diary. Ink. Pages. Secrets.
It was where she poured every unspoken word.
March 22"He didn't even try to explain. Maybe that means everything."
March 25"I hate how I still check his name. I hate how I still love him more than I should."
March 27"If he walked in right now and said sorry… I'd forgive him in one second. That's what makes me weak. That's what makes me his."
She never meant for anyone to read it.
But one day, in a rush for class, she shoved her books and the diary into her bag without thinking.
At school, during lunch, she stepped away from her bench for just five minutes.
And that's all it took.
Rhea, who was never really a friend — more like a pretty girl with sharp eyes and a mean smile — spotted the diary.
She opened it.
Laughed.
And took a picture of one raw, heartbroken page:
"Even now, I'd take him back in a heartbeat. Even if it breaks me again."
By the next period, that page was in every WhatsApp group.
Every hallway.Every cruel whisper.Every quiet giggle behind cupped hands.
Aditi didn't cry in front of anyone.
She just walked to the washroom.Locked herself in a stall.Sat on the closed lid.
And stared.
At her shoes.At the floor.At the place her heart used to be.
She wanted to scream.
Not because they knew she still loved him.But because now… he would know too.
And it wouldn't come from her lips — it would come from a screenshot.
From a page that wasn't meant for anyone but herself.
Across the city, Abhimanyu finally got his phone back.
Battery: 2%.97 unread messages.3 missed calls.A thousand notifications.
And one WhatsApp from Reet.
"You need to fix this. Before she breaks completely."
He opened Instagram.Saw Nisha's story.Saw the comments.Saw Aditi's name in every whisper.
His heart stopped.
He had no idea what she'd seen.No idea how far it had gone.No idea that the girl he loved now hated him — not for what he did…
…but for what she thought he did.
Sometimes, the worst pain comes not from being forgotten —but from being misunderstood.