Aarav’s wrist was still in her grasp, her fingers trembling slightly as she held on. Tanya didn’t know what she expected—maybe for him to turn back, maybe for him to pull away. But he did neither.

Instead, he just stood there.

Seconds passed, stretching into something almost unbearable. She could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and heavy with everything unspoken.

And yet, Aarav didn’t move.

Tanya swallowed. “Please… don’t walk away.”

Aarav finally turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Tanya…” His voice was quiet, almost tired.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… stay.”

Silence.

She knew she was being unfair. She knew she was asking too much.

But for the first time in her life, she didn’t care about how she looked, or what people would say, or how ridiculous she must have seemed.

All she cared about was him.

Aarav took a deep breath, his gaze flickering to where her hand held his.

And then, ever so gently—he pulled away.

Tanya’s heart dropped.

Not forcefully. Not cruelly. But with the kind of quiet hesitation that left a mark deeper than rejection ever could.

Her fingers curled into a fist at her side, gripping onto the lingering warmth he left behind.

Aarav exhaled and took a step back. “Tanya… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Her chest ached at the way he said it—not angry, not cold, just… cautious.

“I get it,” she said, even though it hurt to admit. “I know I don’t deserve to ask for anything from you.”

Aarav looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. The sky above them had darkened, the last traces of sunlight fading into the horizon. The basketball court was empty now, just the two of them standing under the dim glow of the streetlights.

Tanya inhaled sharply. “But I can’t just pretend I don’t feel this way. Not anymore.”

Aarav’s jaw tightened.

She took a step closer. “Tell me, Aarav. If I had realized it earlier—if I had turned around sooner—would things have been different?”

He stilled.

Her question hung in the air, unanswered.

Tanya searched his face, hoping, praying for something—anything—that told her he still felt something.

But he just smiled, a sad, quiet smile that made her stomach sink.

“Life doesn’t work like that, Tanya,” he murmured.

She bit her lip, struggling to keep her emotions in check. “But you loved me once, didn’t you?”

Aarav sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me.”

He met her gaze then, and for a split second, something flashed in his eyes—something soft, something hesitant.

Something real.

Tanya felt her breath catch.

But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

Aarav shook his head, his expression closing off. “I need time, Tanya.”

She stared at him, her chest tightening.

Time.

She had spent years wasting time, running after the wrong person, ignoring what was right in front of her.

Now, just when she had finally figured it out, it was time that was standing between them.

A bitter smile touched her lips. “Okay.”

Aarav blinked, as if surprised by how easily she agreed.

But Tanya wasn’t giving up.

She wasn’t walking away.

Not this time.

She stepped back, giving him space—giving him exactly what he had asked for.

And then, with a small, determined smile, she turned.

“I’ll wait.”

Aarav’s breath hitched, but he said nothing.

Tanya didn’t look back.

But she knew.

She knew he was still standing there, watching her walk away.

And for the first time—he was the one left waiting.