Rain and Unwanted Promises
1010 Words
Chapter 2: Rain and Unwanted Promises
Outside the restaurant window, rain poured relentlessly, drenching the deserted road under the cover of a lonely, dark night. Not a single soul passed by. The city seemed to have fallen asleep, leaving behind only the sound of rainfall and distant thunder.
Elena stood near the window, her gaze fixed on the empty road. The rain had a way of pulling her into thoughts she never invited, memories she worked hard to bury.
“Elena… meet your new mom.”
The voice echoed in her head, clear and cruel.
That night had been just like this. Heavy rain. Roaring thunder. Her father standing behind her, his hand resting casually on a stranger’s shoulder as he introduced her as Elena’s new mother. As if replacing one woman with another was that simple. As if her real mother had never existed at all.
A mistress brought home under the disguise of responsibility.
A loud thunderclap broke through her thoughts, snapping her back to the present.
No. She would not think about that again.
She had been working overnight shifts for the past month, trying to earn a little extra money. In a city like Mumbai, dreams were expensive and survival was unforgiving. There was no one she could call family except her younger brother. No parents to lean on. No safety net waiting below.
Just the two of them.
She had to survive.
She had to keep going.
The restaurant finally quieted down. Closing time had passed, delayed by too many guests and too much work. Elena glanced at the clock and felt a familiar knot of worry tighten in her chest.
Rahul must be worried.
She changed out of her waitress uniform quickly and took one last look outside. Rain streaked down the glass in uneven lines. She checked her phone.
No notifications.
She slipped it back into her bag and walked toward the exit.
Outside, the rain felt colder. Heavier. Elena sighed and looked down at her feet. Old leather shoes. Cracked, worn, and already letting water seep in.
They would not survive tonight’s rain.
But she didn’t regret it. Rahul wanted a new color box for his drawings, and that mattered more. She could manage with these shoes for a few more weeks.
She always managed.
And tonight, she had forgotten her umbrella.
As she stepped onto the road, a bike suddenly rushed toward her and stopped sharply in front of her. Elena gasped, fear shooting through her chest.
The rider removed his helmet.
“Aryaman…”
Relief flooded her instantly.
It was Aryaman Sinha. Her college senior. The one person who was always there. Too often. Too consistently.
She let out a shaky breath.
“Sir, you almost scared me to death. What are you doing here at this hour? Didn’t you say you were busy today?”
Even as she asked, she already knew the answer.
From the very first day of college, Aryaman had been unusually attentive. At the fresher’s party, he had proposed to her on the auditorium stage, in front of students and teachers alike. From that day on, everyone started seeing her as Aryaman’s girl.
No boys dared to trouble her. Not because she was the top scholarship student. Not because of her intelligence.
But because Aryaman Sinha had claimed her.
And that was exactly the problem.
He was the sole heir of the Sinha Group of Industries. Rich, confident, admired by everyone. She was just a middle-class girl counting expenses, worrying about rent, groceries, and Rahul’s school needs.
How could she ever stand beside him?
That was why she had never encouraged his feelings. For the past two and a half years, she had treated him as a good friend. Nothing more.
Still, no matter how late she worked, Aryaman always waited. Always came on his bike to drop her home safely.
For the past week, he hadn’t come. When she hadn’t seen him outside the restaurant tonight, she had thought maybe he had finally listened. Maybe he had understood her silence.
But of course, that was impossible.
Aryaman Sinha never backed down.
He studied her face now, clearly displeased by her distance.
“Damn it,” he said. “How many times have I told you not to call me ‘Sir’?”
Elena stayed quiet. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
“Everyone already sees you as mine,” he continued lightly, as if it were a harmless joke. “I’m not asking for sweet names. Just call me Aryaman.”
The words made her stomach tighten.
“And you didn’t even tell me you’d be late today,” he added, pouting deliberately. “Do you know how long I stood here in the rain?”
“But you messaged that you’d be busy and wouldn’t come anymore,” Elena started.
“That was a week ago,” he cut in. “And you didn’t even ask why.”
She pressed her lips together. She wanted to say she hadn’t asked because she didn’t want to depend on him. Because his concern felt heavy sometimes.
But the words stayed trapped inside her.
Arguing with Aryaman never led anywhere.
Seeing her silence, he smiled, satisfied.
“What?” he said. “Now you realize how hurt I was?”
His gaze dropped to her soaked clothes.
“No umbrella?” he added. “You’re completely drenched. Come on, sit properly. I’ll drop you home.”
He didn’t ask if she wanted to go with him. He never did.
He knew she wasn’t ready. Yet he refused to give up.
He had never forced her. Never openly pressured her. But he waited. Night after night. Rain or no rain. Believing that patience alone would make her his.
Sooner or later, she would be.
All he had to do was wait.
Aryaman waited in the rain, smiling like patience itself.
Elena climbed onto the bike, her wet shoes slipping slightly against the footrest.
She wondered, not for the first time, why care sometimes felt heavier than loneliness.
- Writer
