The Girl Who Would Still Choose Him (But It's Too Late)

It was the quietest Sunday Supriya had experienced in years.No parties.No brunches.No champagne posts.

Just one overwhelming thought that had replaced every selfie and story inside her mind:

"I had him... and I let him go."

Her room was filled with echoes.Not voices.

Not sounds.Just regrets.

She sat on the floor with her laptop open, scrolling through news articles, blogs, podcasts all about one man.

The Spend King.

"He funded another heart clinic in Andhra."

"Launched a startup accelerator in Bihar."

"Broke another silent record in real estate investment."

"Now mentors 10,000 rural youth through AI pathways."

And still....no one had seen his face.

But Supriya had.Years ago.Not the face of the tycoon but the face of the dreamer.

Riya walked in, holding coffee:"You're still on this?"

Supriya didn't look up.

"He just launched a training program for girls who dropped out of school. You know what it's called?"

"What?"

"She Didn't Fail. The System Did."

Riya sat down slowly."Sups...."

"Don't say it."

"You left for your reasons. Don't torture yourself."

Supriya whispered:

"My reasons were small.

His dreams were big.

And I just didn't see it."

That same evening, Nishanth entered a small office built in the basement of his own headquarters.Not for him.For someone else.

A girl named Rashmi stood at the whiteboard.

Once a dropout. Now the Director of Xylon Girls Uplift Program.

He watched as she taught ten young girls how to manage micro-loans and digital wallets.

When the class ended, she saw him and smiled brightly.

"Sir! You came down!"

"Of course. How's it going?"

"We just crossed 3,000 sign-ups this week. One girl cried on a video call. Said this was the first time anyone invested in her brain, not her looks."

"That's exactly the point," he said.

Then handed her a folder.

"Start phase two. Full scholarships for 500 girls. Name the list after your mother."

Rashmi choked up.

"Sir...."

He smiled faintly and walked away.No photo.

No speech.Just impact.

Back in Delhi, Supriya wrote something in her private journal:

"I kept thinking I deserved someone already successful."

"Turns out, I had someone building success ,just not fast enough for my ego."

"And now he spends the way I used to dream of being loved."

Her phone buzzed.

New article:

"Anonymous Spend King Buys 150-Year-Old Girls School, Preserves Its Legacy"

'It was the first place where women were told they matter,' he said in a rare written note.

Below it was a blurred picture.Him.Just a silhouette.The black feather on his wrist barely visible under the sleeve.

She saved the image.Set it as her lock screen.

Meanwhile, Karan spiraled deeper.His office calls dropped.His investors grew silent.

His father stopped speaking to him after their company missed three government tenders, all intercepted by Xylon's shadows.

And every time Karan opened his phone?

Another school.Another campaign.

Another post saying:

"The Spend King does in silence what others can't do in parliaments."

Back at Xylon HQ, Nishanth walked into a new hall under construction.

A team of women stood beside him tech graduates, schoolteachers, ex-housewives.

"This," he said, "will be India's first all-women-led startup bank."

They stared at him.He handed over the key.

"No ribbon-cutting.Just results."

Later that night, his system flashed again.

[EMOTIONAL RISK ALERT: 1 CONTACT NEARING COLLAPSE]

Source: Supriya

Profile: High Regret Index

Message Draft Count: 4

Last Unsent Message:

"If you ask me again… I'd choose you."

Nishanth closed the tab.Not with hate.

Not with pity.Just....with closure.

Because sometimes, the people who see your worth too late....

Are the ones who helped you discover it.

Supriya didn't sleep that night.She sat on the balcony, her eyes blurry but wide open.

Not from caffeine.From truth.

It finally hit her,not like a slap, not like a crash, but like a soft ache that never leaves.

"I left him when he was planting."

"And now… the whole country is eating from the forest he built."

She stared at her phone again.Typed the message a fifth time.

"Nishanth... if you still remember me..... if even one percent of you is the boy I knew..."

She paused.Deleted it.Rewrote it.

"I don't deserve you anymore. But I wish you knew....I'm still proud of you."

This time, she hit send.To the last number she ever had.The screen blinked.

Message not delivered.

Not blocked.Just... unreachable.It felt like losing him all over again.

Across the city, Riya opened Supriya's door and found her curled up under a blanket awake, silent, phone gripped in her hand.

"Did you… try to contact him?"

Supriya didn't respond.Just whispered:

"He's not coming back."

"How do you know?"

"Because I already left him… when he needed someone to stay."

Meanwhile, in Hyderabad, a young couple stood outside a college campus, watching a team of students set up chairs.

"What's this?" the guy asked.

"Spend King Day," said the girl. "It's a student-organized tribute. They pick one day a year to do good deeds in his name."

"Isn't that weird? Worshipping someone no one's seen?"

She shook her head:"Sometimes the ones who don't ask to be worshipped are the ones who deserve it most."

Back at Xylon HQ, Nishanth stood before a screen showing the top trending events of the week.

At number 3:

"Spend King Day: Youth Across India Clean Streets, Fund Libraries, Build Water Lines"

He didn't smile.But Adarsh did.

"Sir, your silent charity is louder than celebrity campaigns."

"That's the point," Nishanth said.

"Will you ever speak to them? I mean… just once? One video?"

"No."

"Even to the girl who keeps writing you unsent messages?"

Nishanth didn't flinch.

"Especially not her."

He opened his system log.

Supriya's name blinked.

Not because of love.But because of what she had just triggered:

[EMOTIONAL SPARK DETECTED: STAGE IV REGRET]

Current Sentiment: 81% Collapse

Recovery Probability: 0%

Would you like to respond?

Nishanth tapped: No.

But paused.

And typed one line, not to her.

To himself.

"Even a broken compass shows the right direction once."

He saved it and moved on.

In Supriya's hostel, she sat in front of her mirror.

Took out the old chain he once gifted her ,a silver loop with a fake crystal that had turned dull over time.

She hadn't worn it in years.But she put it on that night.

Not for fashion.

For memory.

For a version of her that believed in quiet boys who studied late and dreamed louder than they spoke.

She whispered to her reflection:

"You loved him first."

"But the world loved him better."

Back at the Spend King's tower, lights glowed across a dozen cities all connected to his silent spend web.

No one could trace the power to a single man.

But somehow...

Everyone felt it.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

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