Falling Destiny

Episode 15 – "Before the Confetti Falls"

(Neha’s POV)

It had been a few days since everything… calmed down.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like to the world.

On the surface, life seemed almost normal again.

The city’s noise returned to its usual rhythm—traffic horns, vendors shouting, children laughing in the streets. To anyone else, it might have seemed as if nothing had ever happened. But deep down, beneath that thin cover of normalcy, I could feel it. Something was still unsettled. Like a wound pretending to heal, but bleeding quietly underneath the bandage.

And it wasn’t just me.

I sensed it in Disha too.

She had grown quieter—uncomfortably so. The girl who once painted the world with her endless chatter and unfiltered laughter had suddenly turned into someone I barely recognized. She skipped our late-night talks, the ones where we’d sit cross-legged on my bed, eating junk food while confessing dreams and fears. She no longer threw playful sarcasm my way or shared funny stories about her day. Instead, she walked through rooms like a ghost—present, yet not fully alive.

Her eyes didn’t meet mine as often anymore. When they did, they held shadows—storms she was trying to hide. Her smile, once effortless, now looked like something she had to pull out of herself with force.

And every time I asked her what was wrong, her answer was always the same.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Two small words. So casual. So dismissive. But I knew better.

Because I know Disha. I know her inside out—the way a sister would, the way a soul-friend would. And this… this wasn’t her.

Maybe it was because of that night.

That terrifying night I still woke up remembering, heart hammering like a trapped bird. Maybe she was still processing it all in her own way, silently, without telling me. Or maybe… maybe it was something else entirely. Something she wasn’t ready to share.

And that thought—that she might be hurting alone—was what kept me awake most nights.

---

(Later That Night)

That night, I found her sitting by the window. The city lights spilled through the curtains, wrapping her in soft gold and shadows. She sat curled up, knees hugged against her chest, chin resting on them, staring at nothing in particular.

The sight broke me a little. She looked so small. So unlike the Disha I knew—the one who used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt.

I padded into the room, carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. It had become our little tradition, our medicine for bad days.

I held one out to her, forcing a gentle smile.

“Your medicine for moody evenings,” I said softly.

She blinked, as if she hadn’t even noticed me come in. Her eyes flicked to the mug, then back to the window. Slowly, she reached out and took it. Her fingers brushed mine—cold, fragile.

We sat side by side, the warm mugs cradled in our hands, and for a while, neither of us said a word. The hum of the city filled the silence, cars rushing past, distant laughter rising from the streets. I kept sneaking glances at her, searching for the girl I knew, but all I saw was someone fading into herself.

Finally, I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“You’ve been acting strange,” I murmured.

She didn’t look at me. Her gaze stayed fixed on the mug. “I’m just tired.”

I tilted my head at her, giving her a look.

“Disha, don’t give me the ‘tired’ excuse. That’s my line, remember?”

For a moment, her lips twitched, and a small, faint smile appeared. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was there, like the faintest crack in the wall she had built.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone. She stared back into her hot chocolate, like it held answers she couldn’t voice.

“Is it… about me?” I asked carefully. My voice came out softer than I intended. “What happened that night?”

Her eyes darted to mine then—just for a second. And in that second, I saw it. A storm. Anger, fear, helplessness, guilt—all tangled together.

Her voice was barely a whisper when she finally spoke.

“I felt helpless. And that’s not a feeling I ever want again.”

The rawness in her words made my throat tighten.

I reached for her hand. “You weren’t helpless,” I whispered back. “You were right there with me. You’ve been holding me up every single day since. Don’t you see that?”

Her fingers trembled slightly in mine, but she didn’t pull away. She only gave the smallest nod, her lips pressed tight, her silence heavy.

Her walls were still up. She wasn’t ready to let me in completely.

But at least… she let me knock.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough for tonight.

What neither of us knew then was that tomorrow, her life was going to change in a way she couldn’t even imagine.

---

(Next Day)

The day Sanchit planned to propose to Disha.

He’d been rehearsing it with me for weeks. Every detail. From how he would kneel, to the exact way he would hold the ring, to the precise words he wanted to say. He was such a perfectionist, so desperate to get it just right.

I had seen the way his hands shook when he practiced, the way his voice broke when he imagined the moment. He wanted everything to be perfect for her.

I’d even teased him once—when we were rehearsing, I had said no just to mess with him. Poor guy nearly fainted on the spot. His face had gone pale as chalk, and I had laughed so hard I thought he’d never forgive me.

But he did. Because Sanchit… he was serious about her. More serious than I’d ever seen him about anything.

And tomorrow, he was going to show it.

---

(Later That Night – Before Proposal)

I found him pacing near the garden, under the dim glow of the streetlight. He had a bouquet in one hand—roses, wrapped carefully in silver paper—and a tiny box in the other. The way he clutched them, you’d think they were weapons in a battle he was about to lose.

“Nervous?” I asked, stepping closer.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Neha! God, you scared me.”

I laughed, folding my arms. “Relax. You look like you’re about to propose to a queen.”

His eyes softened instantly, his voice dropping almost to a whisper.

“She is my queen.”

The sincerity in his tone made me pause.

He looked down at the small box, his fingers trembling as he opened it slightly, revealing the delicate ring inside. His eyes shimmered with something between fear and hope.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no,” he admitted.

“She won’t,” I said firmly.

He gave me a doubtful look. “How are you so sure?”

I smiled, tilting my head at him.

“Because I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. And I’ve heard the way you talk about her when she’s not around. That kind of love doesn’t just vanish, Sanchit.”

He inhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling as if he was trying to steady himself. “You think she’s ready?”

I hesitated for a moment. Then, with a small smile, I nodded.

“She may not know it yet… but she’s about to be.”

His lips curved in a nervous, almost boyish smile. “This proposal—it’s not just for her. It’s a promise I’m making to myself too. To never let her feel alone again.”

I blinked, genuinely moved. I hadn’t expected him to say something so raw, so honest.

“You better not mess this up now, Romeo,” I teased, lightly bumping his shoulder.

He chuckled nervously, his grip on the bouquet tightening. “Thanks, Neha. For everything. I don’t think I could have prepared for this without you.”

I grinned. “Go get your girl.”

Above us, the night sky stretched endlessly, stars scattered like glitter. But tomorrow—if everything went right—there wouldn’t just be stars.

There would be fireworks.

And I just hoped… Disha’s heart was ready to catch them.