I knew I was getting attracted to the wrong person, but my tiny heart just wanted attention, and Akaay was the only one who gave it to me.
Somewhere between late replies and casual conversations, I mistook availability for affection. And maybe that was my first mistake.
I messaged Shubh too. He was Akaay's best friend, so I thought he might help me understand Akaay better. Or at least, that's what I told myself.
To me, Shubh was the studious kind, quiet, introverted, someone who spoke less and replied even less. His messages were dry, sometimes rude. And me, being completely behsharam (shameless), kept texting him anyway, until one day his walls finally cracked.
It was nighttime, as always. I was talking to Akaay about random movies and songs. Truth is, I was never interested in any of it. I pretended a lot, liked what he liked, laughed where I was supposed to, just to stay relevant in his world.
Meanwhile, the conversation between Shubh and me took an unexpected turn. Somehow, we started sharing pieces of our past. I told him about Abhi, about my mistake of loving him, thinking this was the biggest heartbreak someone could ever feel.
But when I read what Shubh wrote next, I froze.
He told me how his father died due to COVID, and how everything inside him shattered after that. Dreams paused. Childhood ended. Responsibilities arrived uninvited.
And suddenly, I understood him.
I understood why he was the way he was.
Why does he sound so mature beyond his age?
Because he didn't have a choice.
"I made myself like this," he said. "I can't afford to get hurt. I have a lot of responsibilities on me, Kriti."
I didn't know what to reply. No sentence felt big enough. So I typed the simplest thing I could think of.
"You got this. You're doing good. Trust me."
Simple words, right?
But for him, they weren't.
That was the first time someone had said that to him, without pity, without sympathy, without treating him like something fragile. And he felt it. Deeply.
Even though my senses were blurred with Akaay fever, I could still feel the shift. Something had changed, not loudly, not dramatically, but quietly, like a door opening without warning.
I didn't know it then, but I had unknowingly left a mark.
And sometimes, the smallest moments, the ones you don't even plan, end up deciding the future.