Before She Knew My Heart
A story of silence, love, and the war to protect what was never said out loud.

Aarav Varma grew up beside Ayla Sen (since 15 years) — his childhood best friend, his unspoken muse, and the girl he’s loved quietly for over 9 years.

She never knew.

Not when they shared late-night laughs under the stars.
Not when he stood by her through every heartbreak.
Not even when he watched her drift into the arms of someone else.

Now in college, their bond is tested like never before — with misunderstandings, distance, and the arrival of Reyan Mehta, a charming manipulator with secrets darker than his smile.

When danger crosses the line and Ayla is left broken, Aarav steps forward — no longer the quiet boy next door, but the one ready to burn the world to protect her.

But in a world of unsaid words and invisible wars...
Will she ever truly know his heart?

Genres: Romance · Drama · Slice of Life · Thriller
Status: Weekly updates
Author: Saathwik

Season 1, Episode 13 of "Before She Knew My Heart"


Just a bench… a pause… and a person who never really left.


It had been weeks since our last real talk — the last message was mine.


So when I saw her… standing by the old lake bench we used to sit at — the same spot near the temple where we'd eat corn on monsoon days —my heart didn't race.


I walked over slowly. Not saying anything.


A bench. Two people. A thousand unsaid things.


The sky above was slowly shifting — that golden hour where everything feels more fragile, more real.


Just… quietly picked up a small stone and began drawing shapes in the sand with it.


I watched the patterns.They made no sense.


But maybe that's what we were too — lines that stopped making sense… until we paused.


Then, softly — as if afraid the words would break something — she said:


"But I hated myself more… for making you feel like you didn't matter."


The wind carried her words away before I could hold onto them.


But my silence — this time — wasn't anger.


It was forgiveness… waiting to be understood.


Her hand rested on the bench between us.Not touching mine.But close.


A few inches of air.And a decade of memories between our fingers.


Her head — tired, heavy, but safe — slowly rested against my shoulder.


Just a simple truth told through stillness:


And I finally replied, words cracking against the lump in my throat:


"Even when you forget me… I won't forget to show up."


We sat there until the streetlights blinked on.


Just two people who needed to remember —that silence, when shared, could still feel like home.


Chapter 13 - A Bench With No Words