The morning after the rain felt different — quieter, heavier. Swara woke up with the faint memory of last night’s storm still echoing inside her. She could still feel the warmth of his words, the weight of his gaze, and the truth she had tried to ignore for so long.
“I’m with you.”
Those three words refused to fade. They followed her like a heartbeat. She didn’t know if it was love reborn or pain refusing to die, but something inside her had changed.
Sanskaar, on the other hand, hadn’t slept. He sat by his window all night, watching the sunrise melt the darkness. For the first time in months, he didn’t feel completely alone. Swara’s presence, her scent, her trembling voice — everything had come rushing back, and he wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.
He replayed their last conversation again and again until the line between regret and hope blurred. Maybe this was destiny giving them one more chance — or maybe it was just another cruel reminder that love doesn’t follow rules.
That evening, Swara’s phone buzzed. Sanskaar calling.
Her heart skipped. She hesitated before answering, her voice steady though her pulse raced.
“Swara,” he said softly. “Can we meet?”
“Now?”
“Yes. At the old bridge.”
The same bridge where they had made their first promise — and their first mistake.
Swara reached the bridge just as twilight painted the sky in shades of gold and violet. The world around them seemed to hold its breath. Sanskaar stood there, hands in pockets, eyes lost in thought. When he saw her, everything he had rehearsed vanished.
“You came,” he said.
“You called,” she replied simply.
A pause. The wind carried the sound of the river below, calm but relentless.
“I don’t know what we are anymore,” Swara began. “Every time I try to move on, something pulls me back.”
“Maybe that something is love,” he said, stepping closer. “Maybe it never left.”
She looked away. “Love hurts, Sanskaar.”
He smiled sadly. “So does holding your breath, but you still need air to live.”
Her heart trembled. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself, but his words hit too close to home. She turned toward him, eyes glistening.
“Then what now? What do we do with all this pain?”
Sanskaar took her hand — gently, like he was afraid she might disappear.
“We stop fighting love and start fighting for it.”
For a long time, neither spoke. They just stood there as the city lights flickered on one by one. It wasn’t the fairytale ending they once dreamed of — but maybe, this time, it could be something real.
Swara leaned against him, her tears blending with his heartbeat. For the first time in forever, she felt home.
“Do you think we’ll make it this time?” she whispered.
“We will,” he said. “Because now, when hearts collide, they don’t break — they build.”
The river beneath them kept flowing, endless and sure, just like their story — messy, beautiful, and unstoppable.
And as night fell over the bridge, Swara and Sanskaar stood together, finally on the same side of fate.