Chapter 5: The Final Call

4.

After I got back, I packed my bags and moved out of our 2BHK flat. For the next three days, I didn’t message Rohan.

He rarely made the first move, but this time, he called:

"Hey, dress nicely tonight. Come with me to a dinner party."

His tone was stiff—one of those rare moments he left me a way out.

But I refused:

"I’m not going. Find someone else."

He paused, sounding incredulous:

"Find someone else? Everyone else is bringing their girlfriends. Who do you want me to bring?"

"Anyone. Priya or Ritika, either is fine."

"Sneha, how many times have I told you—we’re just friends. Why bring up old issues again?"

"You’re the one who said you’d break up and date her. Do you want me to repeat your exact words?"

He breathed heavily on the line, angry:

"Fine, then let’s break up. I want to see who’ll be the first to beg for reconciliation like a dog."

Rohan was always so sure of himself. His friends never even knew we’d broken up before. He always left a way back, never saying it outright. Many times, when Rohan said "break up," what he really meant was: "I’m angry, coax me, and we’ll get back together."

But if only one person always gives in, no matter how much they love, they’ll eventually feel wronged.

For a moment, I hesitated. My eyes drifted to the window, catching my own reflection—messy hair, tired eyes. Suddenly, a memory flashed: Rohan and I, laughing at Marine Drive, salt wind in our hair, the world feeling small and safe. That memory stung, but it also cleared my mind. Enough.

"Then let’s break up," I said, voice steady.

Whether it was at the bar or even earlier, I think I’d already felt tired. Now I finally understood: in Rohan’s heart, my worries were just controlling. My calls embarrassed him, made him angry. If that’s the case, then I choose to let go.

Rohan, I’ll give you the freedom you want.

My suitcase thudded onto the marble floor. My mother, on a late-night call, asked, "Kya hua, beta?" I mumbled something about hostel drama and brushed her off. Alone, I sat by the window for hours, knees hugged to my chest, watching the dawn break over the city. I felt hollow, but somehow—lighter.