Heartstrings and URLs

Chapter 15: Unraveled Threads

Hospital Canteen – Ayaan & Neha

The canteen smelled of stale coffee and disinfectant, the kind of scent that clung to hospital walls like an unshakable presence. Ayaan sat with his arms crossed, staring at the steam rising from his untouched coffee. He had been like this ever since Jasmine had talked to Ankit—withdrawn, lost in thought.

Neha stirred her tea, watching him carefully before finally speaking. "Okay, spill. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Ayaan exhaled sharply. "Till yesterday, we weren't even part of Jasmine's life. After school ended, she disappeared. No calls, no messages. I used to think she was just a loner, happy in her own world." He tapped his fingers on the table, voice quieter now. "But after last night... she's all I can think about. She's in my head, Neha. I don't even know why."

Neha smirked. "You're jealous."

Ayaan scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, come on." She leaned forward. "You can't even hide it. You don't like how much Ankit affects her, do you?"

Ayaan clenched his jaw, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he let out a dry laugh. "Wouldn't that be pathetic?"

Neha shook her head. "No, it would mean you care. Maybe more than you realize."

Ayaan didn't respond. Because deep down, he already knew she was right.

Ankit's Apartment – The Breaking Point

Ankit sat on his couch, his phone buzzing with unread messages. His fingers hovered over Jasmine's last text, reading it again.

"Don't worry about me... waise bhi, you don't love me. Go talk to that female lawyer."

His grip tightened around the phone, anger simmering beneath his skin.

How could she just say that?

He had spent the whole night restless, his mind a mess of frustration and something dangerously close to heartbreak. The idea that she had tried to end her life—because of him—made his stomach turn. But what made it worse? The fact that she was jealous.

Did she really think I don't care? That she means nothing to me?

His jaw clenched as his thoughts spiraled.

And then there's Ayaan.

The name itself made his blood boil.

He had no right to be jealous. None at all. But the way Ayaan had stayed with her, the way he was there when she needed someone—it stung in a way Ankit couldn't explain.

His phone buzzed again.

Jasmine.

Ankit hesitated before finally opening the message.

Jasmine: "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

He exhaled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he typed:

Ankit: "I'm not mad, Jasmine. I'm just trying to understand. Why? Why would you do this?"

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared.

Then, finally—

Jasmine: "Because my stupid brain told me to. I don't know, Ankit. I just... I just did what I felt in the moment."

Ankit closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

He could tell she was hiding something.

So he typed the only thing he knew to be true:

Ankit: "I don't believe you."

Silence.

No response.

And in that moment, Ankit realized something terrifying.

He wasn't sure if he wanted the truth.

Because if he did—if he truly uncovered everything Jasmine was feeling—he wasn't sure what he would do with it.