Where Silence Learned to Love - Part 10

 

The Truth That Arrived Too Late

It was an accident.

Not the kind that shocks the world—
just one of those small, ordinary accidents that life slips into a conversation.

Ananya was visiting the college for document verification. The same building. The same corridors. The walls looked older now.

While waiting near the office, she overheard two juniors talking.

“Do you remember Arjun R.?” one asked.
“Yes, he was very sincere.”
“He used to like that girl from our department, no?”
“No idea… but I heard he never spoke to anyone about it.”

Ananya’s breath caught.

Not because of the words like that girl—
but because of the certainty in their tone.

She stood there, frozen, as if time had finally decided to pause.

Later that day, she checked the alumni board. There was an update.

Arjun R. – Internship completed. Offer extended.

Her hands trembled slightly.

That evening, Ananya sat beside her mother, sorting wedding invitations for a relative. The house buzzed with joy.

Her mother spoke casually, “Sometimes, people come into our lives only to teach us something. Not to stay.”

Ananya looked at her.

“What if… they never taught us?” she asked softly.

Her mother smiled, thinking it was just a passing thought.
“Then it was never meant to be important.”

But Ananya knew—
it had been important.

In another city, Arjun stood outside his office building, watching people rush past. He held his phone, scrolling aimlessly.

For the first time in years, he searched her name.

Nothing.

No social media presence. No trace.

Just silence.

He realised then—not suddenly, but painfully—that the feeling he had protected so carefully had never been one-sided.

And knowing that changed nothing.

Because some truths arrive only to be understood, not acted upon.

That night, both of them lay awake in different cities, staring at unfamiliar ceilings.

For the first time, they both admitted it—to themselves.

This was love.

Not the kind that asks.
Not the kind that claims.

But the kind that waits too long—and learns too late.

And silence, once their shelter, now stood between them like a closed door they were never taught how to open.