"She Came Back for Him"
1369 Words
They walked past the rusted bike rack and down the slope behind the main block — away from the whispers, away from the eyes.
Kriti sat frozen on the bench, watching them vanish into the sun-drenched shadows.
But Arjun didn’t look back.
---
They stopped near the old oak tree, the one behind the canteen where Arjun used to sneak out for smoke breaks in eleventh grade. Tara stood in front of him, arms crossed but eyes soft.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Arjun exhaled slowly. “You’re really here.”
Tara stepped forward, closed the distance, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Arjun didn’t hesitate. He pulled her in — the kind of hug that said I waited for this. His chin rested in her hair. His hands didn’t want to let go.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
Tara pulled back slightly to look at him, her thumbs brushing the line of his jaw. “I know,” she said softly. “I missed you too.”
Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Arjun. For leaving. For ghosting. For being a coward.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I thought I was doing the right thing back then,” she continued. “My dad got transferred. He said it was time to stop being distracted. He said love wasn’t real at sixteen. And I—I believed him.”
She paused, swallowing. “But I don’t anymore.”
Arjun stared at her, guarded but listening.
“I’m nineteen now,” she said, stepping closer. “Legally an adult. I talked to my dad. I don’t have to move with him anymore. I told him I want to stay. I’m shifting to a hostel nearby.”
Arjun blinked.
Tara smiled through her tears. “I applied for undergrad here. In your college. I’m not going anywhere this time, Arjun. I want to be near you. With you.”
He didn’t respond, not with words — but something flickered in his eyes. The kind of storm that doesn’t show up on weather forecasts. The kind that wrecks hearts.
Tara took his hand, gently. “I know it won’t be like before. Too much happened. But maybe… maybe we can make it something new. Something better.”
She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “I’m not letting you go again. I promise.”
Arjun closed his eyes. And for a moment, he let himself feel it — the weight of the past, the pull of nostalgia, the comfort of what once was.
But somewhere in the back of his mind…
Another girl’s laughter echoed.
The way Kriti used to whisper his name like a secret.
But right now, that memory was buried under the smell of Tara’s perfume, under her trembling fingers, under her promise.
And he didn’t push her away.
---
Back at the courtyard, Kriti still hadn’t moved.
Her soda bottle had gone warm. The sun dipped lower, but the heat inside her chest only rose.
Because deep down, she knew:
Tara wasn’t here to visit.
Tara was here to take back what was hers.
And Arjun… might let her.
---
The morning sun filtered through Kriti’s window in fractured lines, casting patterns across the hardwood floor. She sat curled on her bed, legs pulled to her chest, staring at nothing.
Her phone hadn’t buzzed all night.
Arjun hadn’t come back.
That ache in her chest—yeah, it was still there. A dull, throbbing kind of heartbreak that refused to go away, no matter how much she tried to swallow it down.
Then the doorbell rang.
Piya opened it, still in her pajamas. A cheerful voice rang out:
"Happy anniversary to me!" Samantha grinned, holding up a box of pastries. “Get dressed, girls. We’ve got a party to plan!”
Kriti blinked. “What?”
Samantha stepped inside, barefoot but full of sunshine. “It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary, remember? Arjun and I were supposed to do the decorations, but he’s not picking up. I talked to Rahul and he said Arjun’s… ‘busy.’” She rolled her eyes.
Her smile dimmed slightly.
“So I need your help,” she added, looking at Kriti and Piya with a little too much hope. “Please?”
Piya was already nodding. “Of course we’ll come.”
Kriti hesitated. “I don’t think I should…”
But Piya gave her a look. The kind that didn’t need words.
Kriti, you can’t hide here forever.
And so, ten minutes later, Kriti was in the backseat of Samantha’s car, heart somewhere near her knees.
---
The house looked like a Pinterest board halfway in progress—balloons still scattered in unopened packets, streamers tangled on the floor, fairy lights waiting to be strung.
Kriti got to work anyway, needing the distraction. She tied ribbons to chair backs, arranged candles, helped Piya fold napkins into roses. But her mind was elsewhere.
Where is Arjun?
What is he doing?
Is she with him?
---
Two hours later, as she was taping polaroids along a wall, the door opened behind her.
She turned.
And there he was.
Arjun.
Alone.
Hair messy. Shirt half-untucked. Eyes that looked like he hadn’t slept.
Their eyes locked.
He walked toward her slowly, unsure. Then, without a word, he pulled her into a hug.
But Kriti shoved him back, anger bubbling to the surface like lava.
“Go,” she spat. “Go back to her.”
Arjun blinked. “Kriti”
She stepped back, trembling. “So, it’s all washed away now, huh? One hug and suddenly it’s history again?”
Her voice was louder than she intended. “Did you two have a sweet little ‘welcome back’ session? A reunion f**k to celebrate the good old days?”
Arjun’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Kriti kept going, voice shaking. “Tell me, did you use the condom we bought last week? Still in your car, by the way. Or maybe… maybe you didn’t need one. Maybe you made love, right? Because she’s your first love.”
His face twisted in pain. “Kriti, no. It’s not”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!” he finally burst. “Nothing happened. I told her—” his voice cracked—“I told her I’m in love with you.”
The room froze.
Kriti’s heart stopped mid-beat.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her legs felt like stone.
But before she could respond, the reality slapped her harder than any confession.
This wasn’t real.
None of it.
Because she was still standing there with tape in her hand, fairy lights tangled around her wrist, while Piya and Samantha were upstairs packing gifts.
There had been no confrontation.
No hug.
No shouting.
Just a delusion.
Just her pain dressed as imagination.
She wiped the tears slipping down her cheek and smiled bitterly at the floor.
Just then, the front door opened.
Arjun’s parents walked in from the temple, glowing in pastel colors and marigold garlands.
Kriti stood up quickly, brushing her hands on her jeans.
“Welcome back, Uncle, Aunty!” Piya chirped from the staircase, followed by Samantha bouncing down the steps with wrapped boxes.
“Happy anniversary!” they shouted in unison.
Laughter, warmth, and light flooded the house.
Kriti smiled through it all, like her heart wasn’t breaking inside her chest.
---
And just when the cake was about to be cut, The front door creaked open again.
Everyone turned.
Arjun stepped in.
And beside him…
Tara.
Draped in soft pink, her smile as sweet as a memory no one asked to relive.
Arjun’s parents froze mid-clap.
Samantha’s face twisted in disgust the second she saw her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
But Arjun didn’t say a word.
He was looking at one person only.
Kriti.
And Kriti ,who had just forced herself to smile for the family photo looked up at him with shattered eyes.
And at that exact second…
Tara reached for his hand.
But Arjun didn’t take it.
And everyone knew…
Something was about to happen.
To be continued
- Writer
