The Stranger Who Knew Her Name

They sat on the library floor.

No dramatic music. No poetic moonlight.

Just the hum of the ceiling fan, the smell of ink, and two people sitting in a moment that had been dying to happen for ten years.

Naina didn’t speak first.

Vivaan did.

“You look the same.”

“You don’t,” she replied.

He chuckled, nervous. “Grey hair adds character, I’ve heard.”

She tilted her head. “So does abandonment.”

Oof.

He flinched — but didn’t defend himself.

“I deserved that,” he said, looking straight at her. “I ran. Not because I didn’t feel anything. But because I felt too much.”

“And couldn’t say it?”

“No. I thought… you’d outgrow me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you vanished? Like a magician with stage fright?”

He smiled sadly. “Something like that. But I didn’t disappear completely. I kept track. Quietly. Like a coward with Wi-Fi.”

She wanted to be angry. But her heart was betraying her — softening too soon.

She looked at him closely. “So why now?”

Vivaan took out a folded paper from his jacket. Slightly torn. Slightly worn.

Her handwriting.

From an old college slam book.

“If you ever feel lost, find me where stories sleep. I’ll always come back for a good plot twist.”

She gasped.

He had kept it.

“I came back because… I’ve written every version of life with others, and none of them had your ending,” he said, voice quieter now.

Silence.

Then he added, “But Naina… before you say anything, you should know something.”

She looked up, guarded.

“I wasn’t in town for the past few years. I was… away.”

“Abroad?”

He shook his head. “No. Rehab.”

The air shifted.

“I went off-grid for a while. Alcohol. Depression. I messed things up after I lost my dad. I didn’t want you — or anyone — to see me like that. So I cut out the noise. Everyone. Including you.”

Naina sat still, heart sinking and softening all at once.

“I got out last year. Been in therapy since. And when I saw your name in that literary magazine last month… I knew it was time.”

She was quiet.

Then finally, softly, she asked, “So what now?”

Vivaan exhaled. “Now? Nothing dramatic. No promises. Just… a coffee at Café Noor. A walk after. And if you still feel like you don’t hate me by tomorrow, maybe another story.”

She smiled, tear escaping down her cheek. “I don’t hate you.”

He grinned. “Then it’s already a better plot than I expected.”

They didn’t speak much on the way to Café Noor.

Words felt too clumsy for what their silences already understood.

Vivaan walked beside Naina like he was afraid to get too close — or too far.

Naina, meanwhile, tried to look unaffected, but her hands were inside her pockets so he wouldn’t see her fingers shaking.

They reached Café Noor, but didn’t go in.

Instead, she looked up at him and said, “Let’s walk.”

And they did.

Down the quiet lanes where the city forgets it’s a city. Where lamp posts flicker like old memories, and the world finally shuts up.

It was peaceful.

Until he asked her the one thing she wasn’t ready for yet.

“Did you ever fall for someone after me?”

She stopped.

The question was light. But her silence was loud.

“Yes,” she said. “Twice.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “And?”

“And… both times, I was looking for you in someone else. So obviously, it didn’t end well.”

He looked at her now — really looked. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she replied, not harshly, but honestly. “You were the first person who made me feel seen. Then you vanished like I was never real.”

Vivaan winced.

“I wasn’t ready for a ‘real’ anything back then. I was still pretending I was okay.”

“And I was left trying to convince myself I imagined everything between us,” she whispered.

They stood under a streetlight now. That awkward golden light that makes truth harder to hide.

“I get it, Vivaan,” she said. “People break. They heal. They disappear. But when you ghost someone who trusted you, they start ghosting themselves after a point.”

He looked down.

Then suddenly, he took her hand — gently, unsure if he had the right.

But she didn’t pull back.

“Can I say something stupid?” he asked.

“You already did,” she smirked.

He grinned. “Okay. Second stupid thing.”

“Shoot.”

“I don’t know how to earn your trust back. But I’d like to keep showing up until you’re tired of kicking me away.”

She tilted her head. “That was actually kind of cute.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Still not forgiven, though.”

“I’m a patient man.”

She laughed — for real this time.

And then they walked again. Slower. Softer. Somewhere between ‘strangers again’ and ‘maybe something more.’

Two days later.

They hadn’t spoken about “what this is.”

No labels. No late-night confessions.

Just coffee, shared playlists, and conversations that felt like stolen pages from an unfinished novel.

Naina liked it that way.

Safe. Slow. No promises to be broken again.

That afternoon, she was at a book event at a quaint rooftop café in Safdarjung. She was reading from her latest short story — one about a girl who meets her ex in a dream and forgets to wake up.

Vivaan had texted, “Break a leg, Shakespeare. I’ll come for the next one. Therapy today.”

She smiled at the thought.

Growth looked good on him.

She finished reading, walked down from the mic, and poured herself some coffee. That’s when she saw him.

Aarav.

Not Vivaan.

Aarav — the second person she had fallen for. The one who almost convinced her that healing was possible… until he ghosted her too. This time, midway through planning a trip together.

Same charming eyes. Same grey blazer.

“Naina?”

She froze. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I… heard your name on the invite list. Thought I should come say hi.”

“After one and a half years?” Her voice was low, sharp. “You disappeared. No message. No goodbye. You blocked me.”

“I wasn’t in a good space—”

“Oh please. That excuse is rented and overused.”

He looked embarrassed. “You’re right. I was a coward.”

She stared at him. “What do you want?”

He stepped closer. “Closure. And maybe… another chance to get it right?”

Her blood boiled.

Before she could answer, she heard footsteps behind her.

Vivaan. Holding a coffee, looking confused.

He took one look at Aarav. Then at her. “Everything okay?”

Aarav turned. “You must be…”

“I’m Vivaan,” he said, voice calm but laced with steel. “And you are… interrupting.”

The tension was sudden and electric.

Naina stepped between them. “Guys. Not here.”

Aarav nodded, awkward. “I’ll leave. But Naina — think about what I said.”

Vivaan didn’t say a word. Just watched her. Hurt flickering behind that smile.

After Aarav left, Naina sighed. “He’s just my past showing up uninvited. Don’t read too much into it.”

Vivaan raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

She looked at him. Honest. Raw. Tired.

“Not if you don’t vanish again.”

He softened. “Not planning to.”

They stood there — two people with too many scars, too much history… and just enough hope.

But somewhere in the corner of her mind, Naina wondered:

What if life wasn’t testing her… but giving her a choice?