Parallel Lines: a story of memory, silence, and first love

Epilogue

Scene: "The Folder"

July 12th – 4:02 PM
The bell above the café door chimed.

Kiara stepped in, adjusting her ponytail. She wore a yellow dress — sunlight in fabric form.
But her eyes were already scanning.

She saw him by the window, hunched over a cold cup of tea.
No smile. No greeting.

She sat down slowly. "Hey."

He didn't respond. Just slid a folder across the table with trembling fingers.

She opened it.

Then froze.

Scans. Doctor's notes. A black bold headline:
Glioblastoma.

The breath caught in her throat.

"...How much time?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Two months," he said, staring at the table.

"No," she said instantly. "There has to be a way. A surgery. A trial—something."

He shook his head.
"The doctors have already given up. There's no saving me."

And then — for the first time in years — Arvind broke.

Not the numb version. Not the silent mask.

He crumbled.
Sobbing into his hands like a child.

"I used to ask God why he spared me that night," he choked. "The crash... my parents... I should've died too."

"I wanted to. I tried. I looked at the knife so many times."

He gasped.
"But every time... I saw his face. My grandfather. The man who lost his whole world in one night — and still stayed. For me."

He wiped his face, struggling to breathe.

"And then... you came."

He looked at Kiara — really looked.

"You didn't give up. You kept knocking. You made me feel again."

"I started living again... because of you."

A sad smile flickered, then faded.

"But I always loved her. Tiara."

Kiara didn't move.
Didn't blink.

"I tried to replace it. I wanted to love you. I really did."

He paused.

"But I couldn't. Not the way you deserved."

Silence.

Then — a whisper:

"Thank you... for making me happy. Even if it was borrowed time."

Kiara reached over and held him. No words.
Just silence that cradled the ache.

And then, after what felt like forever, Arvind pulled away.

"I need a favor."

"Anything," she said.

He took a breath.

"She's finally alive again. Laughing. Winning. Breathing."

"She'll wait for me. She'll die with me — day by day. And I won't let that happen."

He met her eyes.

"She'll survive heartbreak. But not losing me like this."

Kiara's voice trembled. "So what are you asking?"

Arvind leaned closer.

"When she walks in... kiss me."

Her face went cold.

"That'll destroy her."

He nodded.

"But it'll save her too."

"She'll think I cheated. She'll hate me. And one day — she'll move on."

Kiara's eyes filled.
"You're asking me to be the villain."

He didn't answer.

Just gave her that desperate, soft-eyed look.

And Kiara —
Heart breaking all over again —
Nodded.

"One last favor," she whispered.

Scene: The Apartment

Silence.

Minutes passed.

Then — the elevator. The key. The door.

And without a word, Arvind leaned in.

Kiara kissed him back — not with passion. Not with want.

But with grief.

Scene: The Collapse

The door opened.

Tiara stepped in.

The chai slipped from her hand before the shock could catch up.

Arvind's lips. Kiara's hands.
Two silhouettes lit in betrayal.

She didn't scream.
Didn't cry.

She just collapsed to her knees.

And ran.

Scene: Outside

She called Ankita through shaking hands.

"He... he was with her..." she sobbed. "I saw them. Kissing."

"Where are you?"

"Outside... outside my building."

"Stay there. I'm coming."

12 Minutes Later

A scooty skidded to a halt. Ankita ran and pulled her into the tightest hug.

"You're safe," she whispered.

Tiara sobbed.
"I thought he loved me."

Ankita held her tighter.

"He did. And tomorrow — we begin again. Like always."

Final Scene: Parallel Lines

The days got shorter.
The sketches — slower.

Arvind could barely hold the pencil.
But each morning, he tried.

He sketched Tiara's face — not the one who hated him,
But the one who used to trace circles on his palm while she studied.

He drew Kiara too — spoon-feeding him, holding his hand, brushing his hair back.

His final drawing?

Tiara at a train station, smiling.
Arvind across the platform — watching. Never calling. Never crossing.

Far away, in another city...

Tiara thrived.
She won her biggest case.
Smiled at a stranger in a bookstore.

She never learned the truth.

All she knew was that Arvind cheated. Lied. Left.

And she hated him —
Until one day, she didn't.

Arvind died quietly.

No struggle. No pain.

Just stillness.

Kiara buried him near the sea, sketchbooks in his arms.

She never told Tiara.

She never would.

Sometimes, on rainy nights, Tiara would feel a sharp ache —
A sense that someone once loved her deeply...
and left quietly.

Final Line:

They never met again.
Not in life.
Not in letters.
Not even by chance.

But somewhere, in memory — they stood:
Always near.
Never touching.

Two souls. Two stories.
Parallel lines.