Unfinished (Some love stories don’t end. They just wait to be written right) - Chapter 9

 

Chapter 9: The Silence After the Storm

The morning after his confession dawned with the soft rustle of birds outside the heritage windows of Raj Vilas. Aditi awoke early, eyes open long before her alarm buzzed. The city beyond was bathed in honey gold, but inside her, there was only storm-gray stillness.

She hadn’t replied to Aditya’s last message.

She hadn’t needed to.

Some truths are too heavy to carry into words.

As she sipped her coffee on the small stone balcony, she replayed his words from last night over and over:

“I didn’t want you to stay out of pity…
I thought you’d stay, and I couldn’t bear that.”

How absurd.
How heartbreakingly Aditya.

Even now, after knowing everything, part of her still wanted to be angry.
But the larger part of her… just felt tired.

So tired of carrying two years’ worth of pain with no name.

9:30 AM – Project Site, Final Inspection

The final day in Jaipur had arrived. Vendors walked them through the loaded trucks. The manager spoke of timelines and backups.

But Aditya and Aditi barely looked at the site.

Their eyes kept drifting to each other.

Stolen glances. Brief flickers. Like embers under ice.

At one point, as she bent over a checklist, Aditi felt his gaze linger.

When she looked up, Aditya looked away, too late.

She didn’t comment.

She didn’t need to.

Lunch Break – Rooftop Café

To everyone’s surprise, Aditya suggested lunch at a nearby rooftop café that overlooked the Amer Fort. It was uncharacteristic — almost too relaxed for someone like him.

But the team agreed, and Aditi didn’t protest.

The table was long. Laughter passed across it like sunlight.

But on one end sat Aditi, and beside her, Aditya — quiet, observant.

At one point, when her water glass tipped slightly, he instinctively reached to steady it. Their fingers brushed.

Just a second.

But her breath caught anyway.

They both withdrew.

She hated how her body still remembered him, how her pulse betrayed her.

He is not yours anymore, Aditi.
You are not the girl who used to wait for him to come home.

And yet…

When he said softly, “Eat something, you haven’t touched your plate,” it wasn’t command.

It was concern.

And she heard it.

She picked up her spoon without meeting his eyes.

Evening – The Return

As their train pulled away from Jaipur, Aditi took the window seat this time. Her hair was open, softly tousled by the desert wind. She wasn’t trying to look strong anymore. Just… tiredly honest.

Aditya sat beside her, a respectful space between them.

The rhythmic sound of the train filled the silence.

“I wasn’t going to tell you,” he said suddenly.

She didn’t look at him. “I figured.”

“I thought… if I ever saw you again, it would be after everything settled. When I was… better. Whole.”

She turned her face to him, quiet.

“And what are you now?” she asked.

He paused.

“Half,” he admitted. “But still breathing.”

A faint, almost broken smile curved her lips.

“Must be hard for someone like you — always in control — to admit that.”

He nodded once. “It is.”

She stared out the window again.

“You should’ve let me decide, Aditya. Maybe I would’ve stayed. Maybe I would’ve left. But I had the right to choose.”

“I know,” he said softly. “That’s the part I regret the most.”

She didn’t reply.

But she didn’t pull away either.

They sat there in silence again. But this time, it was not heavy.

This silence had space in it.

For breath. For memory.
For something new — not yet born, but quietly waiting.

Back in Delhi – That Night

Aditi reached her apartment, dropped her bag, and stood in the doorway.

Everything looked the same.

But she didn’t feel the same.

Her phone buzzed.

Message from Aditya:

Thank you. For being there. Even when I didn’t deserve it.

She stared at the message.

Typed something.

Then deleted it.

And then typed again:

We’re not okay. But maybe we’re not broken either.

Send.

She placed the phone down and exhaled — a long, deep breath that felt like it came from somewhere years away.

For the first time in two years, she didn’t feel haunted.

She felt… unfinished.

And sometimes, that’s the beginning of something new.

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