Aarav always believed that love was supposed to feel warm.
Like sunlight slipping through half-closed windows.
Like a hand finding yours in a crowded street.
Like a voice that made the noise of the world fade into something distant and harmless.
But the night he realized he was losing Maya, love felt nothing like that.
It felt cold.
The rain had been falling since evening, turning the streets of Neo-Delhi into long, broken mirrors. Streetlights trembled inside puddles, their reflections stretching and snapping with every passing vehicle. Aarav stood under the awning of a closed café, his jacket soaked through, his phone clenched tightly in his hand.
7:43 PM.
No new messages.
He refreshed the screen again.
Nothing.
Maya was late.
That alone wasn't unusual. Maya was always late—late to classes, late to meetings, late to admit her feelings. But tonight felt different. The air itself seemed heavier, as if the city was holding its breath.
Aarav glanced across the street.
The café they had chosen glowed faintly behind fogged glass. It was the same place where they had shared their first awkward coffee six months ago. The same place where Maya had laughed so hard she had spilled sugar across the table and refused to stop apologizing.
"I ruin everything," she had said that day.
Aarav had smiled and replied, "Then let me be the thing you don't ruin."
He remembered that now, and something twisted painfully in his chest.
His phone buzzed.
Finally.
A message from Maya.
Maya: We need to talk.
Aarav's fingers hovered over the screen.
About what?
Are you okay?
I'm here.
A hundred replies rushed through his mind, but none of them felt right. He settled on the simplest one.
Aarav: I'm outside the café.
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then:
Maya: I know.
That was it.
No emoji.
No explanation.
Just two words that made his stomach sink.
When Maya finally stepped out of the rain, Aarav almost didn't recognize her.
Her hair was tied back neatly, no loose strands framing her face the way he loved. She wore a long coat he had never seen before. Her eyes—those eyes that once looked at him like he was the safest place in the world—were distant. Careful. Guarded.
She didn't smile.
"Maya," he said softly, stepping forward.
She stopped him with a raised hand.
"Don't," she said.
One word.
Sharp enough to cut.
They stood there, separated by less than a meter, yet it felt like an entire universe had opened between them.
"I don't have much time," Maya continued, her voice steady but hollow. "So please… just listen."
Aarav nodded slowly.
His heart was already beating too fast.
"Okay."
She inhaled, then exhaled, as if bracing herself against something invisible.
"I've been thinking," she said. "About us. About everything."
Aarav forced a small smile. "That doesn't sound bad."
"It is," she replied instantly.
The word hit him harder than he expected.
"I don't think this is working anymore."
The rain grew louder.
Or maybe that was just his pulse in his ears.
"What?" he asked. "What do you mean, it's not working? Did something happen?"
"Yes," Maya said. "You happened."
The words felt unreal, like dialogue from a movie that had suddenly turned cruel.
"Maya," Aarav said carefully, "if I did something wrong, just tell me. I'll fix it."
She shook her head.
"That's the problem," she said quietly. "You always try to fix things. You try to fix me."
"I never—"
"You don't even realize you're doing it," she interrupted. "You look at me like I'm something fragile. Like I'll break if you don't protect me."
Aarav stared at her.
"I look at you like I love you."
Her jaw tightened.
"That's not the same thing."
They moved inside the café, away from the rain, away from curious glances. The place was almost empty—just a barista wiping the counter and an old couple sitting by the window, hands intertwined.
Aarav and Maya took their usual table.
Or what used to be their usual table.
Maya didn't sit across from him. She chose the chair beside the wall, creating distance even within the small space.
"I've been accepted," she said suddenly.
"Accepted where?" Aarav asked.
"The Orion Research Program."
His breath caught.
"That's… that's incredible," he said, forcing excitement into his voice. "You applied months ago."
"They want me in Tokyo," Maya continued. "For at least three years."
Three years.
The number echoed in his mind.
"That's far," he said carefully. "But we can make it work. People do long distance all the time."
Maya looked at him then—really looked at him.
And for the first time that night, her eyes held something sharp.
"I don't want to make it work."
The sentence fell between them like shattered glass.
"What?" Aarav whispered.
"I don't want to carry you with me," she said. "I don't want to feel guilty every time I focus on my work instead of calling you. I don't want to think about what you're doing when I'm building my future."
Aarav felt dizzy.
"So… you're choosing your career over me?"
"No," she said. "I'm choosing myself."
Silence followed.
Heavy. Crushing.
Aarav stared at his hands.
"I supported you," he said quietly. "I stayed up nights helping you with your proposals. I believed in you even when you didn't."
"I know," Maya said.
"And now that you've succeeded, you're leaving."
She flinched.
"That's not fair."
"Neither is this," he replied.
Maya stood up.
"I didn't come here to argue," she said. "I came here to end this."
The words settled slowly.
End this.
Six months of shared mornings.
Six months of whispered dreams.
Six months of believing that some things were permanent.
All of it—ended.
Aarav stood too.
"Look at me," he said.
She hesitated, then raised her eyes.
"I love you," he said.
Her lips parted slightly.
Then she closed them again.
"I don't," she said.
The lie was clean. Too clean.
It hurt more than the truth ever could have.
Maya left first.
She didn't look back.
Aarav stayed at the table long after she was gone, long after the café lights dimmed, long after the barista gave him a sympathetic glance.
When he finally stepped back into the rain, the city felt unfamiliar. As if something essential had been removed from it.
He walked without direction.
Past glowing billboards advertising future technologies. Past crowds laughing under shared umbrellas. Past couples holding hands.
His phone buzzed again.
Another message from Maya.
For a moment, hope flared.
Then he read it.
Maya: Please don't follow me.
This is goodbye.
Aarav stopped walking.
His chest tightened.
Goodbye.
The word echoed strangely in his mind.
As if it didn't belong only to this moment.
As if it had been spoken before.
Many times.
The streetlight above him flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the world… hesitated.
Aarav frowned.
The rain froze mid-air.
Drops suspended like glass beads, unmoving.
The sound vanished.
No cars.
No voices.
No wind.
Just silence.
"What the hell…?" Aarav whispered.
The streetlight went dark.
Every screen around him blinked off simultaneously.
His phone slipped from his fingers and shattered on the ground—except the pieces never hit the pavement.
They hung there.
Floating.
A cold sensation crawled up his spine.
Then a voice spoke.
Not from the sky.
Not from the ground.
From everywhere.
"Love confirmed," the voice said calmly.
"Emotional bond complete."
Aarav's heart slammed against his ribs.
"Who's there?" he shouted.
No answer.
The air itself seemed to crack.
A sharp pain exploded in his chest, dropping him to his knees.
Memories flooded his mind—memories that weren't his.
A woman wearing a crown, crying as she gave an order.
A blade piercing his heart under a golden sky.
A girl who looked like Maya pulling a trigger in a city of neon lights.
A goddess with her eyes full of tears, whispering his name before ending his life.
Aarav screamed.
The voice returned.
"World stability compromised," it said.
"Initiating reset."
"Reset?" Aarav gasped. "What are you talking about?!"
The ground beneath him disappeared.
Darkness swallowed everything.
As he fell, the last thing he saw was Maya—standing across the street, staring directly at him.
But this Maya was different.
Her eyes were glowing faintly.
And she was smiling.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"We were never meant to survive love."
The world shattered.