The message blinked on Ashaas's phone late at night, just as she was finishing notes for an upcoming wedding. She almost ignored it — clients often sent last-minute questions — but when she saw Neel's name, her breath caught.
Ashaas, I need to see you. Just once. Please.
Her first instinct was disbelief. Neel rarely reached out anymore, except for polite check-ins or casual meetups with friends. This was different. Urgent. Heavy.
She stared at the screen, her mind tumbling back through years she thought she had neatly folded away. The heartbreak, the healing, the countless moments of wondering why it had ended the way it did. And now, here he was, knocking on the door of her carefully built life.
She didn't reply immediately. Instead, she set the phone down and walked to the balcony, the city lights flickering below. Part of her wanted to ignore him — to leave the message unanswered, to prove to herself that she was no longer tethered to him. But another part, the part that remembered every late-night conversation and unspoken goodbye, whispered differently.
When she finally typed back, her fingers trembled.
Okay. Tomorrow. Café near the park at 5.
---
The next day, she arrived early, her heart unsteady. The café was quiet, filled with the aroma of roasted beans and soft chatter. She chose a table by the window, where the late afternoon sun spilled across the floor.
When Neel walked in, she almost didn't recognize him. He looked older, wearier, the weight of years pressing into the lines on his face. But his eyes — those familiar eyes — held the same intensity, the same restless searching.
They sat in silence for a long moment before Neel spoke.
"Thank you for coming."
Ashaas nodded, her voice cautious. "Your message sounded urgent."
He exhaled slowly, as though gathering every ounce of courage. "It is. I've been carrying something for years, and I can't anymore."
Her chest tightened. "Neel…"
"I made a mistake, Ashaas," he said, his voice breaking. "The biggest mistake of my life was letting you go. And seeing you now, with him… it kills me. I should've fought for us. I should've been better."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Ashaas felt her pulse quicken, a storm of emotions rising — anger, sadness, nostalgia, confusion. For so long she had dreamed of hearing these words, but now, sitting across from him, they felt out of place. Too late.
She swallowed hard. "Neel… I cared for you more than you'll ever know. But you didn't lose me by accident. You let me go. And I learned to live without you. I learned to love again."
His jaw tightened, his eyes glassy. "Do you love him?"
The question pierced her. She thought of Arjun — his quiet devotion, his laughter in her kitchen, the way he looked at her as though she was the center of his world.
"Yes," she whispered. "I do."
Neel leaned back, his face pale, as though the air had been knocked out of him.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding.
Finally, Ashaas stood. "I'll always be grateful for what we had, Neel. But some doors, once closed, shouldn't be reopened."
She left before he could answer, the sound of the café fading behind her.
Outside, the world felt lighter, yet her heart ached. She hadn't realized until this moment how far she had come, how much she had truly let go.
And as she walked away, she knew the past had finally loosened its grip.