A Silent Heartache
A Silent Heartache
Sunday.
I stood outside the mall, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, my hands tucked into my jacket pockets. The morning sun was already climbing the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd. People walked in and out of the entrance, their chatter blending with the distant honking of cars.
I glanced at my watch. 9:45 AM.
I had arrived fifteen minutes early, my heart beating slightly faster than usual. Choosing the mall as our meeting spot was a calculated decision—if this date didn't work out, if she felt nothing, then it would just be like one of our usual hangouts. Just another normal day between two childhood friends.
Or at least, that was what I had told myself.
Time passed.
The crowd around me shifted constantly—couples holding hands, families with children, groups of friends laughing as they entered the mall. The city moved as it always did, unaware of the growing weight in my chest.
I checked my watch again. 10:30 AM.
Then again. 11:00 AM.
And finally—11:45 AM.
Shreya still wasn't here.
A bitter taste settled in my mouth as I exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. Maybe she's running late? Maybe something came up?
I didn't have a phone—I never used one because I thought it would distract me from my studies. And yet, right now, I wished I had one. At least then, I wouldn't be stuck waiting like this, wondering if something had happened.
The thought hit me suddenly. What if Shreya got into an accident? What if she wasn't feeling well?
Panic surged in my chest. Without another thought, I turned on my heel and began walking toward Shreya's house.
---
When I reached her home, I took a deep breath, hesitated for just a moment, and then rang the doorbell.
A muffled voice came from inside. "Wait a minute, I'm coming!"
The door opened, revealing Shreya's mother, Aunty. She smiled warmly when she saw me.
"Harsh! Please come in."
I shook my head, forcing a small chuckle. "No, Aunty, I'm wearing shoes today. It'll take time to remove them and put them on again."
She laughed lightly. "You look good today, Harsh! Going somewhere?"
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Not really, Aunty. Just heading to the mall… By the way, is Shreya home?" I kept my voice steady, careful with my words.
"Yes, she is!"
My breath caught. "What?.... I mean is she feeling not well or something?" I asked.
Aunty nodded. "She's perfectly fine. She's inside, watching a movie with some friends from her class."
The world around me faded for a second.
I looked down at my shoes, my mind racing. So she… never intended to come?
The realization hit harder than I expected. It wasn't that she had forgotten, or that something had happened—she had simply chosen not to come.
I clenched my fists, pushing down the bitter sting in my chest. My emotions churned inside me, but I forced myself to stay calm.
When I finally looked up, I smiled.
"O-Oh, okay," I said lightly, as if it didn't matter. As if I hadn't spent hours waiting.
Aunty tilted her head. "Did you need something from her?"
My mind scrambled for an excuse.
"Ah, actually…" I forced out a small laugh. "I was heading out with Vaishu for a movie, so I just stopped by to ask if Shreya wanted to join us. Vaishu asked me to check."
A lie. A last-minute defense mechanism.
Aunty smiled. "Oh, why don't you come in and ask her yourself?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, she's with her friends, right? I don't want to disturb her. Maybe next time."
I turned on my heel, my legs moving before my heart could catch up. "I'll get going now, Aunty. See you later."
As I stepped away from the house, my chest felt tight—like something had sunk deep inside, leaving behind an empty space.
She didn't forget. She just didn't come.
And somehow, that hurt more than I expected.
A Moment of Silence, A Moment of Warmth
I stood outside Vaishu's door, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.
"Hey, Vaishu, do you have a second?" My voice was quieter than usual.
A brief silence, then—"Yeah! Come in!"
I pushed the door open and stepped inside her room for the first time.
The soft glow of daylight filtered in through the window, casting a warm hue over the neatly arranged space. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. Vaishu sat at her desk, focused on her textbooks, a pen twirling absentmindedly between her fingers. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, slightly messy from hours of studying.
She turned to me, her dark almond-shaped eyes filled with curiosity. "What's up?"
I hesitated for a second before speaking. "Can you send a message to Shreya for me? Tell her I want to meet at the park in the evening."
Vaishu blinked. Then, without a word, she reached for her phone and handed it to me.
"Here. Just call her yourself and tell her that."
I looked at the phone in her outstretched hand but made no move to take it. Instead, I let out a quiet sigh. "I don't want to talk to her right now… So please, just send the message for me."
Her brows furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her expression. "Hey… is something wrong? You sound really dull."
I forced a small smile. "Nothing. I'm going to my room. Just… let her know, okay?"
Without waiting for her response, I turned and walked away.
---
Back in my room, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for a second.
I glanced at the clock on the wall—1:00 PM.
I hadn't eaten all day. I had planned to have breakfast with Shreya, but now… I had no appetite.
With a tired sigh, I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My body felt light… empty, like a hollow shell.
I had spent the entire night awake, thinking about today—about how things would go. But now, all the exhaustion I had ignored crashed down on me like a wave.
Before I knew it, my eyes shut, and I drifted into sleep.
---
"Mom…?"
A soft, warm pressure wrapped around my hand, grounding me in reality. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking away the drowsiness.
Sitting beside me on the bed was my mother.
She held my hand tightly, as if she was afraid of letting go—as if she was afraid that if she did, I would disappear.
Her usually warm, lively face was tinged with worry.
"How do you feel?" she asked gently.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "I'm good. Just a little groggy."
Her lips pressed together before she spoke again. "Did something happen?" Her voice wavered slightly. "You were sleeping for six hours straight. Your dad and I were so scared, you know!"
My chest tightened slightly at her concern.
I forced a chuckle, scratching the back of my head. "I think I overdid my workout yesterday. I guess I was just out of energy and crashed."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, Harsh. You need to take better care of yourself."
Then, as if switching gears, she clapped her hands together. "Alright! Enough of this gloomy mood. Get up, wash your face, and come to the kitchen."
Her voice was back to its usual warmth, and I couldn't help but smile. "Got it, Mom."
---
When I stepped into the dining room after freshening up, I was greeted by a familiar sight—Dad and Vaishu sitting at the table, chatting casually.
As I joined them, Mom placed a tray of ice cream on the table.
"I bought these last night. Figured we'd all enjoy something sweet today," she said with a smile.
I took a spoonful, the cold sweetness melting in my mouth.
For the first time that day, the ache in my chest dulled a little.
We sat there, talking and laughing, sharing small moments of warmth.
And just for a while—I let myself forget the heaviness weighing on my heart.