At first, it was all innocent. Adit had a harmless crush on Inaaya—one of those teenage infatuations that come with stolen glances, nervous texts, and overanalyzing every small interaction.
"Inaaya ne tujhe kabhi thik se dekha bhi hai?" Isha teased one day, watching Adit struggle to form a reply.
"Aap na... bas dekhna, ek din usko impress kar hi lunga!" Adit grinned, his confidence shaky but determined.
Inaaya, of course, was clueless. Or at least, she pretended to be. "Uska crush hai, mujhe kya?" she would say every time Isha mentioned it, brushing it off like it didn't matter. But Isha knew better—Inaaya did care, just not in a way Adit wanted.
It didn't take long before Adit and Inaaya started talking. And naturally, because Inaaya and Isha were always together, Adit began talking to Isha too.
At first, it was all about Inaaya. What does she like? What kind of guys does she prefer? Mujhse baat kyun nahi karti properly? Inaaya found it amusing at first, playing along, giving vague answers. But over time, the conversations shifted.
"Khaana khaya?" Adit asked Isha slightly sounding off.
"Tu theek hai na? Aaj thoda off lag raha hai." Isha asked.
"Yaar, sach batana ishu di, Inaaya kab feelings develop karegi mere liye?" his voice cracked with sadness when he asked.
Isha had seen many boys like Adit before, in case of Inaaya. The ones who fell fast, the ones who wanted validation, the ones who romanticized the chase more than the person. But Adit was different—or at least, he made her believe he was. He wasn't just obsessed with Inaaya; he genuinely wanted to be a part of their world.
And for a while, with time it felt like she had gained a sibling. A younger brother.
He would wait for them after class, even when Inaaya wasn't around. He would bring them chocolates randomly. He listened to their endless rants, hyped up their outfits, and even defended them when someone said anything remotely mean.
It was nice. Until it wasn't.
Because something was off.
It took time, but Isha started noticing it.
Whenever Inaaya ignored Adit, he would come to her, venting about how unfair life was. "Ishu di, aap samajh rahi hai na ? Mujhe bas ek chance chahiye. Inaaya kyun aise kar rahi hai?"
And when Adit did something annoying, Inaaya would roll her eyes at her, expecting her to handle it. "Tera bhai pagal hai. Samjha le usko."
She was constantly caught between them—translating their unspoken words, fixing their misunderstandings, smoothing out their fights.
She was the third wheel—whether she wanted to be or not.
And the worst part?
Neither of them seemed to notice. Even neither of them made Isha feel as third wheel.
YOU ARE READING
Strings that tangled us
Non-Fiction"Some heartbreaks don't come from lovers-they come from the ones we trust the most." Isha, Inaaya, and Adit-three friends bound by fate, laughter, and unspoken emotions. But when love, jealousy, and betrayal enter the picture, their once unbreakable...
