Chapter 7: The Final Goodbye

06

After returning to college, I was ready to submit my study abroad application. The form in my hand felt heavy with possibility.

As soon as I left the hostel, I bumped into Arjun. He looked tired, stubble on his jaw, a far cry from the heartthrob everyone swooned over. The distant clang of a local train drifted through the sticky Mumbai air.

I’d been seeing him more often lately—Ritika lived in my building, after all. The universe really knows how to test a girl.

Arjun would buy her poha in the morning, wait to go to class together, and walk her back at night. Sometimes I’d catch glimpses—her giggling, him carrying her books. It stung, but less than I expected.

Apparently, his 'busy research work' never existed. Turns out, he had all the time in the world—just not for me.

I thought, even if I ended up with Arjun, I’d never get the same treatment as Ritika. It’s not that he couldn’t do these things—he just didn’t want to do them for me. That truth hurt the most.

Arjun looked up at me, cold and silent, like he was waiting for me to make the first move again. The silence stretched, full of all the words we never said.

I ignored him and started to walk away. My heart gave a final pang—a flash of old memories, the weight of my decision pressing on my chest. But I kept moving, my resolve steady.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist. His hand was warm, desperate.

His eyes locked on the words “study abroad” on my form.

His voice trembled: "What are you holding in your hand?"

"Can’t you read?" My voice was sharp, refusing to give an inch.

I tried to pull away—every minute wasted here was a minute stolen from my future. The counsellor would be off soon.

But Arjun’s grip tightened. "You’re going to study abroad?"

At that moment, Ritika came down the stairs. When she saw Arjun holding my hand, her eyes turned red.

"Bhaiya Arjun, what are you two doing?" Her voice was shrill, echoing down the hostel corridor. I almost rolled my eyes, but kept my face neutral, reminding myself—one step at a time, Meera. Just one step at a time.

For once, I wasn’t the one left behind. This time, I’d already chosen my own ending.