“Pages Between Heartbeats”*
1499 Words
*Chapter 3: “Pages Between Heartbeats”*
The rain had just stopped. Soft light from the streetlamp spilled onto the soaked pavement, and the night smelled of wet earth and memory. Mira stood under the large banyan tree by the riverside, her fingers trembling as she held a letter. The paper was slightly damp from her sweaty grip, but the ink remained intact—clear, personal, haunting.
She had read it five times already.
*“My dearest Mira,*
If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t have the courage to say all this in person. But you always deserved honesty, even if it’s written in ink instead of breath.
—Arif.”**
Arif. The name felt like music and sorrow at once. Two years ago, they had parted—not out of hate, but confusion. Life pulled them in opposite directions. He had gone abroad to pursue research; she had stayed behind to take care of her family. They promised to write, but silence grew faster than distance.
And now—this letter.
Mira stepped away from the road, closer to the river, and opened the rest of the letter.
**“I’ve carried you in my thoughts like a melody with no lyrics. Everything reminded me of you—your laughter in the rhythm of trains, your scent in the pages of old books, your voice in the wind that passed through foreign cities.
But I was afraid. I thought time would make us strangers.
But I was wrong.
If you still feel what I feel, meet me at the place where we wrote our first letter to each other.
—Yours always,
Arif.”**
Her heart thudded. That place—*the library garden bench*.
She looked at the date on the envelope. It was written three days ago.
Without hesitation, Mira ran.
—
The city was asleep when she reached the old library gate. She squeezed past the broken side fence and walked toward the garden. The bench was still there, under the large mango tree, worn by time but standing.
And he was there.
Arif stood with his hands in his pockets, face turned toward the stars. He didn’t hear her footsteps until she was right beside him.
“Mira…” he whispered, turning slowly.
“I read your letter,” she said, catching her breath.
He nodded. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”
Mira reached into her coat and pulled out a neatly folded envelope. “You wrote yours. I wrote mine too.”
She handed it to him. Arif opened the letter carefully, his fingers shaking.
**“Dear Arif,
You once said the world can wait, but not the heart. I waited—not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
I waited because I believed we had a second chapter left to write.”**
As he read, his eyes filled with tears.
**“You said you were afraid time would make us strangers. But love remembers.
I remember the warmth of your hands when mine were cold.
I remember your silence when I needed comfort more than words.
I remember you. Always.
So here I am.
This is not just a reply.
This is my final letter—one written not to end things, but to begin again.
If you’re still willing, let’s write this story together.
Yours,
Mira.”**
He folded the letter slowly and held it to his chest.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said.
They sat down on the bench, hands finally meeting. Above them, the stars blinked like witnesses to the reunion of two souls that had never truly parted.
And though their first letter was written in separation, this final one began their forever.
---
*Part 2: "Echoes Between Us"*
It had been three weeks since Maya left. Her absence clung to the walls of Aarav’s apartment like the fading scent of lavender — haunting, familiar, comforting and devastating all at once. The silence was no longer peaceful. It was a storm waiting to erupt inside him.
Aarav sat at his writing desk every night, staring at the stack of unopened letters she had left behind. She had told him before she left, “Each one is a memory we lived, and a truth we never spoke.” But he couldn’t bring himself to read them — afraid of what he might find, or worse, what he wouldn’t.
But that night felt different.
The rain tapped gently on the windowpane like it was urging him forward. With trembling fingers, he opened the first letter.
---
*Letter 1 — “When We First Met”*
Aarav,
You always asked why I smiled so much the first time we met. I never told you — it was because I saw something in your eyes I hadn’t seen in anyone else. Quiet chaos. That strange mix of peace and rebellion. You reminded me of a page waiting to be written on. And I desperately wanted to be your story.
– M.
---
Tears welled up in his eyes. How had he never seen this side of her? He thought he had known everything — her favorite tea, the exact tone of her laugh, the way she counted stars when nervous. But the words in the letter revealed a Maya he had never met.
The second letter lay on the desk, daring him.
---
*Letter 2 — “Things I Never Said”*
Aarav,
There were days I wanted to scream at you. Not because I was angry, but because I didn’t know how to ask for space without sounding like I was leaving. You never understood how sensitive I was to silence. When you shut down, I shattered. But I stayed because I hoped you’d hear my unspoken words.
– M.
---
He remembered those silences. They weren’t empty. They were full of fear. Full of words both were too proud or too broken to say aloud.
Guilt twisted inside him. All the nights he sat on the couch while she curled up in bed alone. All the apologies he never made. The hugs he didn’t offer.
He opened the third letter with shaking hands.
---
*Letter 3 — “The Night It Fell Apart”*
Aarav,
The night we argued about the trip — that wasn’t about the vacation. It was about feeling like I didn’t matter in your plans anymore. I knew I had been slipping away from your priorities. I saw it in how you looked at your phone more than at me. I wanted you to fight for us, but instead, you asked if I needed time. I didn’t need time. I needed you.
– M.
---
He remembered that night too clearly. Her standing by the window, arms crossed, eyes red. Him, pacing the room, frustrated and tired. They both said things that night that should’ve never been said. Words that acted like walls instead of bridges.
He didn’t want to read more, but he couldn’t stop. Every letter was a heartbeat, bringing her voice back to life in his ears.
Then came the fourth letter — the hardest one yet.
---
*Letter 4 — “The Truth I Couldn’t Tell”*
Aarav,
: I almost didn’t write this one. But truth matters, even when love fails. The real reason I left wasn’t just the fights or the silence. It was fear. I was afraid we were becoming strangers with history, not lovers with a future. I was afraid that one day, I’d wake up next to you and feel alone. And I couldn’t bear to unlove you while still in your arms.
– M.
---
Aarav stood up and walked to the mirror. His face looked older somehow. Not from time, but from the weight of realization. He had loved Maya in his own way — practical, loyal, consistent — but had he really *seen* her?
The final letter on the table was labeled: *“If You Ever Read These”*
He hesitated. This felt like an ending.
---
*Letter 5 — “If You Ever Read These”*
Aarav,
If you're reading this, it means you’ve been brave enough to face the pieces of us. Thank you. I want you to know — I never stopped loving you. But love, real love, isn’t just presence. It’s effort. Attention. Listening. I hope someday, you learn to love someone not just with loyalty, but with awareness.
If I could rewrite our story, I wouldn’t change how we met. I’d just fight harder for how we ended.
Goodbye doesn’t mean I stopped caring.
It means I cared enough to walk away before we ruined each other.
– Always,
Maya
---
Aarav sat in the silence that followed. But it wasn’t empty this time.
It was full of understanding.
And a whisper of hope.
Maybe not for them.
But for who he would become next.
---
- Writer
