The platform was loud.
Vendors shouting.
Trains screeching.
Footsteps echoing.
But for Ishaan… everything felt distant. Muffled.
He stood near a pillar, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd—
not really seeing anything.
Three years.
His phone vibrated.
Jeevika: I reached… where are you?
He typed.
Stopped.
Deleted.
Typed again—
"Ishaan?"
He froze.
That voice.
He turned.
Jeevika stood a few steps away.
Same eyes. Same softness. A little tired… but real.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then she walked toward him, slow, almost cautious—like the space between them still mattered.
"So… this is you after three years?" she said, a small smile forming.
Ishaan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Yeah… and this is you."
She stepped closer, studying him. "You got thinner… and more serious."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "And you still talk too much."
She laughed and nudged his arm. "Shut up."
For a second—
It felt normal.
Too normal.
And then it slipped.
His expression hardened.
Something behind his eyes shifted.
"You took long enough," he said, his voice lower now. Colder.
Jeevika paused.
That tone.
"…Ishaan?" she asked quietly.
"Don't call me like that if you don't mean it."
The air tightened.
"I do mean it," she said, confused, her brows pulling together.
He stepped closer. Too close.
"Three years," he said, jaw tightening. "And you think just showing up fixes everything?"
Her smile faded.
"I never said that…"
He held her gaze for a second—
Then broke it.
Ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
"Sorry… ignore that," he muttered.
Jeevika didn't move. She watched him now, more carefully.
"Hey… what's going on with you?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just… life."
"No," she stepped closer again, her voice firmer now.
"Not 'nothing'. You just switched on me."
He looked at her.
Really looked this time.
And something about that unsettled him.
She doesn't get it.
The voice cut through his thoughts.
Ishaan clenched his jaw slightly. "Stop."
"…What?" Jeevika whispered.
She left, the voice continued, colder now.
Three years. And now she wants soft conversations?
"She didn't leave," Ishaan muttered under his breath. "It was distance."
Same thing.
Jeevika didn't understand the words—
But she felt the shift.
She stepped forward and grabbed his hand.
Firm. Grounding.
"Look at me."
He resisted.
She tightened her grip.
"Look at me," she repeated, stronger this time.
Slowly… he did.
For a moment—
Silence.
Inside him, everything went still.
"I didn't leave you," she said, her voice trembling but steady.
"I stayed. Through everything. Even when you pushed me away."
Something cracked.
"I know…" he said quietly.
Then why does it still feel like she did? the voice pressed, sharper now.
Jeevika heard it again.
This time, she didn't step back.
She stepped closer.
"Because you were alone."
It hit.
Clean.
No defense.
A train roared past behind them, the noise cutting through the platform—
But neither of them reacted.
His shoulders dropped.
The tension drained.
For now.
"I didn't know how to be okay," he admitted, barely above a whisper.
Her expression softened.
"You don't have to be okay all the time," she said gently.
"You just have to not shut me out."
A long pause.
Then—
He pulled her into a hug.
Not tight. Not desperate.
Just… real.
"I missed you," he said quietly.
"I know," she murmured.
Then, after a beat—
"But you've become more dramatic."
A faint scoff escaped him. "And you're still annoying."
She smiled.
But inside—
This isn't over.