"GOOD MORNING."
It was from Mr. Gaurav. I had saved his contact number with his real name. I read the full message. He never forgot to greet me every morning. Before I even woke up, his message would flash on my phone screen.
These little things,Things I once wished for, Somehow, they've already made their way into my life.
"You too," I replied with a smile.
"Aria!"
Sarah called from behind the door just as I was about to enter the office. I paused, holding the glass door.
"What?" A dry, low voice escaped my lips.
"Mr. Gaurav—" she hesitated, "I mean... I've been hearing rumors about you two."
She said it casually, but I already knew. People love making up stories—fake ones.
Just because he's my client and I'm his employee.
"Their food can't digest unless they spread fake rumors," I muttered to Sarah.
She looked at me, wide-eyed.
"What did you just say?"
"What?"
"Wait—you talked back? How...? I mean... you're not dumb, but you always stay silent about everything. But now... you're angry. That means there is something between you two, right?"
"I... nothing."
"Okay... but you do think about him, don't you? Right, Miss Cutie~"
Sarah pulled me into a tight hug. She looked genuinely happy for me.
This side of her—I had never seen before.
I always thought she was just a mean girl. That she only chose me as her friend because no one else accepted her in their group.
But now... I see.She really did want this friendship.
And she's been carrying it well.
Another text came from Gaurav:
"LET'S MEET TONIGHT, AT 8 PM."
I felt excited to meet him.
When I first started spending time with him, things were a bit uncomfortable for me. I always nodded to every question he asked. I never gave long answers like he did—just short responses.
"This restaurant is good, isn't it?" he asked casually.
I nodded again.
"Am I annoying you? If not, then stop nodding at every question. Answer me with your mouth, not your face," he said, a little frustrated.
"You... know—" I began.
"What? What do I know?" he asked.
"It's hard for me to express my feelings through words. I can't explain what's inside me."
"That happens when you've been too isolated for too long. It gets tough. Don't push yourself... but I didn't mean for you to stay like this. Just open up to me. If you want to eat this whole samosa, the chutney, and everything else—just take it. Don't be shy or do mental calculations about it."
I smiled…
He's really good at explaining things. Good at comforting someone.
"What... am I a joke to you?" he teased.
I wish for a lot of things...
Like going somewhere with someone special—holding his hand, having dinner together…
Maybe he'd even yell at me over something silly, get annoyed at my stupid behavior.
But I never got what I wished for...
After such a long time, someone finally came into my life.Someone who actually wants to spend time with me...Even with a boring person like me.
"I'm done," I said softly.
"Finish it all. No drama," he commanded.
"But my stomach is already full... If I eat even one more bite, I'll throw up."
"That's just another one of your easy excuses."
How does he know me so well?
Yes... I made an excuse. But not because of him—
It's this crowded place…
Everyone's sitting and eating with their loved ones.
I just… I'm not made for places like this.
Where people open their hearts to their loved ones, and I'm the one who never opens up to anyone.
I even think twice before ordering a glass of water.
I'm that kind of girl—someone who doesn't do things easily or beautifully.
I just... make things worse with my thoughts.
The thoughts that keep roaming in my head.
Thoughts like: Everyone is living their life, busy in the chaos... and I'm still standing here, asking—where can I go?
There's no place where I feel like I truly fit in.
If Gaurav ever read my mind, he'd leave me without even saying goodbye.
That's how weird I am.
"How's the dinner?" he asked, snapping my mind back to the present.
"Good," I replied quietly.
The simplest, easiest word. I noticed it—how I always answer in just one word.
It's less effort. Less pressure.
I avoid forming full sentences because it feels like too much work.
I never sugar-coat my voice, not even once.
Maybe that's why people stay away from me.
We humans… we're drawn to beautiful words.
Deep down, we know the person is acting, sugar-coating everything—but still, we smile.
Somehow, our souls shine invisibly in that moment.
And only one person can truly see that silent smile—you.
"You didn't ask me why I invited you to dinner tonight," he asked softly.
"So-rry… Sir—"
"WHAT—Wait! Don't call me sir here. We're the same age. Call me by my name. Otherwise, don't use any formal words."
He paused when I didn't respond.
"Whatever… Today's my birthday. I wanted to celebrate it with my brother, but… we don't talk anymore."
He sighed.
I looked into his eyes. They turned teary.
It was my second time seeing a man cry in front of a woman.
The first was my papa, when he cried in front of my mother—after he lost his job.
The family pressure, the weight on his shoulders—he wouldn't have survived if Mom wasn't there.
My dad always respected her, loved her so kindly.
And the love they had… I wanted that in my life too.
A man like my father—who never felt ashamed to cry in front of Mom.
Being strong together, solving every problem of life...
"So, I chose you over him," he finished.
"How can you share something so personal with me?"
"Because it's easy to say it in front of a stranger," he replied.
"But—why only me? Didn't you see other strangers around you?" I asked softly.
"Ahh… I see. But… my soul prefers you. I don't know the reason. Maybe because you're quiet, you don't judge people easily, you stay silent in every matter, and you think twice before speaking. So it's easier to open up in front of you."
The things in life that hurt us are often the hardest to express to anyone—even to our own family.
"My breath caught."
"It depends on the person you trust more…" he said.
"Trust," I repeated, chuckling.
"What? You don't trust anyone? Not even your family or friends?"
"I don't know how to generate trust in someone."
"There's no method for generating trust. Your brain just chooses it."
"What if my brain chooses wrong? What if I trust someone who betrays me?"
"That's another thing," he admitted.
Trusting someone is like playing a pawn.
There's a ninety percent chance they'll betray you.
We know this very well.
But for the sake of comfort and sympathy, we express our sadness and darkest secrets to another person—
And even knowing that person might betray us, we still take the risk.
And sometimes we ask: Why didn't they stab us in the back when they had the chance?
***
"It's safer and more secure to collect everything inside you," he said.
"And what about you? Do you collect everything inside?" he asked.
"I do… but with myself.
Because I never judge my thoughts, my problems, or my wishes.
I appreciate myself whenever I'm falling…
Whenever my breath catches…
Whenever I go down…
Whenever I tremble…
When I feel I'm not worthy…
I repeat to myself: 'I'm enough.'
And that one word—ENOUGH—
It consoles me more than any human touch ever could."