Naina had stopped asking.
At first, she used to ask gently
“Can we talk tonight?”
“Are you free this weekend?”
“I miss you…”
But over time, her questions became shorter, quieter
until they disappeared completely.
Being in a relationship with Arjun felt like waiting at a bus stop
where the bus rarely came. And even when it did, it never stayed long enough.
He wasn’t a bad person. That’s what made it harder.
He just… didn’t have time.
Work, friends, stress, deadlines,
there was always something more urgent than her.
And every time she tried to explain how she felt, he would sigh and say,
“Why are you making this a big deal? I’m trying, okay?”
Trying.
That word echoed in her mind long after the calls ended.
Because love, she thought, shouldn’t feel like someone is trying to fit you into their life.
It should feel like you belong there.
Still, she stayed.
She adjusted her expectations. She told herself, This is normal.
People get busy. I should understand.
She learned to celebrate short replies.
To feel grateful for random late-night calls.
To ignore the ache of being an option.
Until one evening, she stopped recognizing herself.
She was sitting alone in a crowded café, staring at her phone.
She had been waiting for his call for over two hours.
When it finally came, it lasted three minutes.
“I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Click.
That night, something inside her quietly broke,
not loudly, not dramatically,
but in a way that couldn’t be fixed.
A few days later, she met Kabir.
It wasn’t anything special. Just a mutual friend’s small gathering.
No dramatic entrance, no instant sparks.
He simply sat next to her and asked,
“Do you always look lost in a room full of people?”
She almost laughed.
“Maybe,” she replied.
And somehow, that one conversation turned into many.
Kabir wasn’t extraordinary in the way movies describe.
He didn’t sweep her off her feet or make grand promises.
But he did something far more unfamiliar.
He listened.
Not just to reply, but to understand.
When she spoke, he didn’t check his phone.
When she laughed, he noticed.
When she went quiet, he asked why.
And the strangest part?
He always had time.
Not forced time. Not “squeezed in” time.
Just… time.
One evening, as they sat on a park bench
watching the sky fade into orange,
she asked him something that had been quietly bothering her.
“Don’t you get busy?” she said.
“Don’t you have things to do?”
He smiled, a little confused.
“Of course I do.”
“Then how do you always make time?”
Kabir looked at her for a moment before answering.
“Because I want to.”
It sounded so simple. Too simple.
But to Naina, it felt like hearing a truth she had been denying for too long.
That night, she went home and stared at her chat with Arjun.
Months of conversations that felt one-sided.
Unread messages. Delayed replies. Missed calls.
She realized something she had been avoiding.
She wasn’t asking for too much.
She had just been asking the wrong person.
The next day, she ended it.
No drama. No long explanations.
Just honesty.
“I wanted time. I wanted presence.
I wanted to feel chosen. And I don’t anymore.”
Arjun didn’t argue much.
Maybe he didn’t understand.
Or maybe he never really tried to.
Weeks passed.
Naina didn’t rush into anything new.
She wasn’t trying to replace one love with another.
But Kabir stayed.
Not in a demanding way. Not in a “you owe me” way.
He just… stayed.
He checked in.
He showed up.
He remembered little things she said in passing.
And slowly, without even realizing it, Naina began to heal.
One evening, as they walked under a sky full of quiet stars,
she turned to him and said,
“You know what you taught me?”
Kabir raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“That time and attention aren’t responsibilities.”
He smiled softly.
“They’re choices,” he added.
She nodded.
“And when someone loves you… they don’t make you beg for it.”
For the first time in a long while,
Naina didn’t feel like she was waiting for love to arrive.
She was finally experiencing it.
Not rushed.
Not borrowed.
Not half-hearted.
Just present.
And that made all the difference.
