"WHO ARE YOU?
DON'T YOU HAVE A LIFE?
AT NIGHT YOU'RE CALLING MY DAUGHTER?
DO YOU THINK YOU'RE A MAN?
I SWEAR, I'LL FILE A POLICE CASE ON YOU.
TOMORROW I'M COMING TO THE SCHOOL.
WE'LL TALK TO THE PRINCIPAL.
LET'S SEE WHERE YOUR LOVE GOES THEN."
The voice note ended.
My heart didn't.
For a second, I didn't understand whose phone it was.
Who she was talking to.
Who the words were meant for.
Then I saw my phone in her hand.
And everything collapsed.
She hit me and asked the same question again and again.
"Who is he?"
"WHO IS HE?"
I wanted to scream his name.
But I didn't.
Because if I said his name, he would become real in this room.
And if he became real, he would get destroyed.
So I stayed quiet.
She started calling him.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
He didn't pick up.
And suddenly;
I hated him.
Why aren't you answering?
I need you.
Just once.
Then another thought came.
No, he must be scared.
Anyone would be.
I hated myself for blaming him.
At midnight, my phone was still in her hand.
Chats open.
My words.
His words.
The poems he wrote when I couldn't sleep.
And then,
Blocked.
I don't know when it happened.
I just saw his name disappear.
I slid down the wall and cried in the corner like something broken and unwanted.
My mother looked at me like she knew the world better than I ever could.
"These men are all the same," she said.
"They vanish when things get hard.
Don't look for love.
They'll never give it.
They'll only use you."
I wanted to scream,
He's not like that.
But my mouth didn't open.
Because what if she was right?
What if he left?
What if he already did?
The next morning, I went to school alone.
I didn't wait for his call.
Didn't even look at my phone.
Because if I looked and saw nothing,
I wouldn't be able to walk.
At the gate,
he was there.
Nimesh.
Waiting.
My heart ran toward him.
My body stayed frozen.
"I'm sorry," he said fast.
"I was terrified. I didn't know what to do-"
I wanted to hug him.
I wanted to scream at him.
I wanted to forgive him.
I wanted to hurt him.
All at once.
"You don't need to explain," I said quietly.
"I know who you are."
His eyes searched mine like he was drowning.
"My mom doesn't know who you are," I added.
"So you're safe."
He shook his head.
"I don't want to be safe like this," he said.
"I don't want to leave you.
I'll tell her it was my fault.
I'll say I was calling and messaging.
I'll say I won't do it again."
I smiled.
And the smile hurt him more than silence ever could.
Because it wasn't belief.
It wasn't relief.
It was resignation.
He broke right there.
During class, he kept looking at the door.
Waiting for my mother.
Waiting for punishment.
Waiting for something to end.
When the teacher called my name during break,
his hands started shaking.
I went.
When I came back, he looked at me, asking without words.
I gave him none.
I was angry.
Then scared.
Then guilty for being angry.
I didn't know which version of myself was real.
After school, I left.
Then came back.
Saw him packing his bag.
When he noticed me, he panicked.
"I love you," he said suddenly.
"I'll stay. I promise."
"I won't leave you."
Too late.
No.
Say it again.
Don't say anything.
I walked away.
And I hated myself for every step.
I sat on a bench halfway home.
I couldn't breathe properly anymore.
Then he came.
Sat on the ground in front of me.
When he looked at my face, he froze.
Tears everywhere.
No strength left.
I hugged him.
Hard.
Like if I let go,
everything would end.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"I'm so sorry."
For doubting him.
For loving him.
For needing him.
For not being strong enough.
And I still don't know.
Was I apologizing to him?
Or to myself?