chapter 1
It was half past six in the evening.The sun was slowly setting, and the college campus was slipping out of its daytime chaos into a quiet sadness. Most students had already left for home, but the old peepal tree behind the library still stood silently, witnessing someone's unspoken pain.
Under that tree, on a cold stone bench, sat Ananya.
A thick book lay open in her lap, but the words printed on the pages never reached her eyes. She kept staring at the book, trying to read, but her mind wandered—into memories, into yesterday, into the pain she tried to escape every single day.
Ananya had always been quiet.As a child, people used to say, "She's so mature, she speaks so little."What they never understood was that her silence wasn't maturity—it was survival.
Her mother's death had split her life into two parts—The Ananya who laughed, talked, and dreamed.And the Ananya who existed now—silent, broken, withdrawn.
Her father was still alive, but emotionally distant.Work, responsibilities, society—he carried everything except time for his daughter.Home had turned into just a house, a place to stay, not a place to feel.
Ananya closed the book and took a deep breath.The air felt cool.Her eyes were moist, but no tears fell.Perhaps because she had forgotten how to cry long ago.
That's when she heard footsteps behind her.
"May I sit here?"
The voice was calm—neither demanding nor hesitant.
Ananya turned around, slightly startled.
A boy stood there—simple clothes, a bag on his shoulder, and tired eyes.His face didn't speak of happiness, but it didn't complain either.His faint smile looked practiced, as if worn out of habit.
She didn't speak.She simply nodded.
He sat down.
For a few moments, silence filled the space between them.But it wasn't uncomfortable.It was the kind of silence where no explanations are needed—only presence.
"I'm Aarav," he said softly.
After a pause, she replied,"Ananya."
Just her name.No stories attached.
Aarav glanced at her book."You like reading?"
A faint smile touched her lips—more honest than happy.
"Not reading," she said,"Escaping."
The words pierced Aarav's heart.It felt like she had spoken his own truth out loud.
"Me too," he replied."Sometimes books are just an excuse."
For the first time, Ananya looked at him properly.There was no pretence in his eyes.He wasn't lying.
The leaves above them rustled as the wind grew cooler.The evening deepened.
"Do you come here every day?" Aarav asked.
"Yes," Ananya said."This place doesn't let me feel alone."
Aarav smiled slightly."That's strange… I feel the same."
Two strangers.Two wounded hearts.One shared feeling.
After a while, Aarav stood up."I should go."
Ananya nodded.But something tightened in her chest.
He took a few steps, then stopped and turned back.
"Ananya… if I come here tomorrow…?"
There was hesitation in his eyes—the fear of hoping again.
She looked at him carefully.She saw her own pain reflected in his gaze.
"I'm usually here," she said softly.
Aarav smiled.And in that smile lived an unspoken promise.
After he left, Ananya stayed there for a long time.Her heart felt restless—afraid, yet quietly hopeful.
Maybe…Someone had finally heard her silence.
And that was the beginningof a lovethat would hurt first,and then teach the heart how to live again.