Months passed. The anger faded, but the emptiness remained.
Isha still checked on him—through mutual friends, through casual WhatsApp messages about his exams, through any small conversation she could manage. But the responses were short, almost mechanical. He had changed. Or maybe, he had just stopped caring.
And then, out of nowhere, one day—he messaged her first.
"Heyy! How's life?"
For a moment, her heart skipped a beat. She stared at the screen, a thousand emotions colliding inside her. Finally, my brother is back! she thought, a small smile forming on her lips.
But as the conversation continued, the truth hit her.
He hadn't reached out because he missed her.
He had reached out to remind her that he was happy—happier without her, happier without inaaya.
At first, it was subtle. He spoke about his life, his college, his new friends. But soon, the conversation took a turn.
"You remember Kaamini? She is amazing. She gets me, yaar."
"She's so supportive. Always understands what I need. Actually she's is my girlfriend now."
And then, the pictures started coming. Screenshots of chats, goofy selfies, videos of them laughing together. It was as if he wanted her to see, to know, to feel the difference.
"Why is he doing this?" Inaaya asked, frowning at Isha's phone.
"To rub it in" Isha muttered, locking the screen.
"He thinks I'll tell you everything and then you will regret to loose him." Isha said.
Inaaya looked away, jaw clenched. "Like it really gonna hurt me. How stupid."
"Exactly."
And yet, it still hurt. Inaaya and Isha both were hurt by his actions.
It shouldn't have. He wasn't isha's responsibility anymore. He had chosen to walk away, and she had finally stopped chasing after him. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was over it, the pain still lingered.
Then came the final blow.
Adit had returned to their hometown for a few days.
A part of her still clung to the hope that maybe—just maybe—this was her chance to fix things.
"Sunday ko bahar chalein kuch khane?" she texted, hesitantly.
To her surprise, he agreed.
"Haan, thik h. Milte hain. Mai aapko call karunga."
Sunday arrived. She got ready, excitement bubbling inside her.
She waited.
And waited.
No call. No message.
Hours passed. Nothing.
By evening, she gave up. Maybe he got busy. Maybe he forgot. Maybe... she was reading too much into this.
Two days later, her phone buzzed.
"I already left for Mumbai."
No apology. No explanation. Just a simple fact, like she was nothing more than a passing thought.
She stared at the message, her hands cold, her heart numb.
That was it. That was the moment she knew—whatever they had once been, it was gone.
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...
