The broken mirror had finally begun to piece itself back together.
Arvind remained friends with Kiara — a graceful, mutual goodbye wrapped in gratitude and unspoken understanding. Life moved forward, quietly but meaningfully.
Both Arvind and Tiara began dating again — this time, each other. And to their surprise, the semester passed in a blink.
Arvind often waited near the NLSIU campus, sketchbook in hand, for Tiara to finish class. And every time she spotted him in the distance, it felt like coming home.
Their routines blended seamlessly — no more pretending, no more running. Arvind slowly became himself again: loud, cheerful, present. Tiara no longer wore a mask. She was seen, completely — and loved in all her brilliance and flaws.
When the semester ended, they went hiking. Just the two of them. No announcements, no Instagram posts, no need for validation. Just two souls under a wide, forgiving sky.
Their bond grew quiet but unshakable.
Days passed with soft simplicity — late-night walks, sudden rainstorms, chai breaks, quiet cafés. They let the rain soak them without care, laughing with stained lips and lighter hearts.
Each moment felt small — yet infinite.
Two broken hearts, now whole. Not because they fixed each other, but because they healed beside one another.
Time flew.
Graduation arrived gently, almost unexpectedly.
Arvind stood in the crowd, cheering the loudest as Tiara received her degree. Her parents, seated beside him, clapped with pride.
Later that day, Tiara sat in the front row and watched Arvind walk the stage. Her eyes welled up, but her smile didn't waver. His name echoed through the hall. Her mother whispered, "He's a good one."
She nodded. Silently agreeing.
The degrees, the accolades, the placements — none of it compared to what they had built.
After the ceremony, tucked into a quiet corner of a too-expensive café, Tiara stirred her coffee and asked, almost offhandedly,
"Should we move back to Delhi? You could apply to that art school. I know the city still holds... heavy things, but—"
Arvind didn't let her finish.
"No buts," he said, taking her hand. "If I have you, I have everything."
And suddenly, the ghosts of yesterday didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Parallel Lines: a story of memory, silence, and first love
RomanceThere was a rooftop. A page that went unread. A name she never said out loud again. Years passed. The silence stayed. One train. Two people. No second chance - only the memory of what almost was. Parallel Lines is a story you don't read. You remembe...
