Riya didn't know what was wrong with her.
All day, she kept checking her phone. Every time a message popped up, her heart jumped — only to sink again when it wasn't him. It was ridiculous. She barely knew this man, and yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.
You're being stupid, Riya, she told herself while wiping the counter for the tenth time that morning.But it didn't help.
Ever since that night by the gate, something had shifted. His voice, his calm gaze, that half-smile — it kept replaying in her head like a song she couldn't turn off.
And she didn't want to turn it off.
When Dhruve finally walked into the café that afternoon, she felt her chest tighten. He looked the same — tired eyes, quiet steps, that calm presence that made everything else fade. But there was something different about him today.
He looked distant.
He smiled at her, sure, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was like he'd built a wall overnight.
"Hey," she said softly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he said. "Just didn't sleep much."
"You sure?"
He nodded, forcing a smile. "You worry too much."
She tried to laugh it off, but it stung. That one sentence — you worry too much — felt like a small, polite way of saying don't get too close.
He sat at his usual corner table, laptop open, typing aimlessly. She watched him from behind the counter, pretending to make coffee she didn't need to make. Every now and then, their eyes met — just for a second — and then he'd look away.
That hurt more than she wanted to admit.
After her shift, she walked over with a cup. "On the house," she said. "You look like you need it."
He looked up, and for a moment, the exhaustion in his eyes softened. "Thanks."
She hesitated. "You know, you don't have to pretend around me."
His fingers froze around the cup. He didn't say anything. Just stared at the steam rising from it like he was watching smoke from a fire he couldn't put out.
Finally, he said quietly, "I'm not pretending. I just… don't know what I'm supposed to be anymore."
Something in her chest cracked.
"Then don't be anything," she whispered. "Just be here."
He looked at her — really looked — and for a moment, she saw something raw behind his calm exterior. A sadness that ran deeper than words could touch.
Then he said softly, "You're too kind, Riya. You shouldn't be."
That night, Riya lay awake again. Her phone screen glowed beside her pillow — empty. No message. No call.
She scrolled up their old chat, rereading every line, smiling at the stupid jokes, the playful teasing. She typed something — "Missed seeing you today."Then deleted it.Typed again — "You okay?"Deleted it again.
Her heart ached in that silent, stupid way only people in denial understand.
And as she turned off her phone, she whispered to the dark,"Damn it, Dhruve… why do you feel like a habit I can't quit?"