Chapter 15 – The Forgotten Notebook
817 Words
It was one of those mornings when the world seemed to move slower — when the sun peeked lazily through clouds and the air carried the quiet hum of ordinary life. Kavya walked into the café, her thoughts lost somewhere between half-dreams and half-formed feelings.
She hadn’t expected to see Aryan that day. He had mentioned something about meetings, deadlines — things that belonged to his carefully structured world. But there he was, seated in their usual corner, a black notebook open in front of him and a faint crease between his brows as he wrote.
She hesitated for a moment before walking over.
“Early start?” she teased, pulling out the chair opposite him.
He looked up, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Or maybe a late night.”
There was something different about him today — something tired in his eyes, yet oddly vulnerable. The silence between them wasn’t awkward anymore; it had become something almost comforting, like a quiet song they both understood.
Her coffee arrived. They sat there, side by side, sharing space and silence. Aryan’s pen moved across the page, his handwriting precise yet hurried, as though the words might escape if he didn’t catch them fast enough.
When his phone buzzed, he glanced at the screen and frowned. “I have to go,” he said abruptly, gathering his things.
Kavya nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Work?”
“Something like that.”
He left in a rush, the café door chiming softly behind him. Kavya watched him go, her eyes drifting back to the table—where a small, black notebook still lay.
For a moment, she didn’t move. Then, curiosity nudged her forward. She reached out and touched it, tracing the initials embossed in the corner: A.M.
Her heart skipped.
She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t.
But temptation has a quiet, persuasive voice.
The notebook was unassuming — worn at the edges, pages filled with neat lines and small sketches in the margins. Most of it was everyday notes, reminders, ideas. But near the middle, a page stopped her cold.
“There’s something about her. I don’t know when it started. Maybe it was the rain, or that laugh she tries to hide behind her cup. But she lingers — even when she’s gone.”
Kavya’s breath caught.
It couldn’t be about her… could it?
Her fingers trembled as she turned another page.
“I don’t understand why I tell her so little when I want to tell her everything.”
Her heart raced. Every word pulled her deeper into his quiet world, a place where emotions lived between ink and silence. It was as though she was reading pieces of the man behind the walls — pieces he never let anyone see.
When she reached the last line written, her chest tightened.
“If she ever found this, I’d never be able to look her in the eyes again.”
Kavya closed the notebook slowly, guilt washing over her. The café suddenly felt too small, too loud. She placed it carefully on the table, untouched, as though her curiosity hadn’t already left fingerprints on his heart.
She sat there for a long time, wondering what she should do. Return it? Pretend she never saw it? Or confess that she knew — that she had read words that weren’t meant for her?
When Aryan returned later that afternoon, his expression was unreadable. He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on the notebook still resting on the table. Relief flashed across his face, followed by something heavier — dread, perhaps.
“You found it,” he said quietly, picking it up.
“I did,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “You left it here.”
He nodded, clutching it tightly. “Thank you.”
She hesitated, searching his eyes. “It seems… important.”
“It is,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s… personal.”
Kavya’s gaze softened. “Then I’m glad you got it back.”
Their eyes met — a long, searching look filled with unspoken truths. She saw the question in his eyes: Did you read it?
And she knew he saw the answer in hers.
Neither said a word.
As he turned to leave, she whispered, almost to herself, “You should be more careful with things that matter.”
He froze for a heartbeat, then looked back, his voice low but certain. “Some things find the right hands, even when we lose them.”
Kavya felt her chest tighten again, a strange mix of warmth and ache spreading through her. When he left this time, she didn’t call after him. She simply watched him go, holding the weight of his unspoken confession close to her heart.
Because now she knew — his silence had never been empty. It had always been filled with her.
- Writer
