Collision

Aditya

The clatter of plates echoed faintly from the dining room, his mother humming in the kitchen. Morning sunlight spilled across the Agnihotri living room, but Aditya’s chest felt heavy.

He sat with his father, trying to focus on the newspaper. Ashok asked about London, his work, his friends. Aditya answered, but the words barely left his lips.

Because he was waiting.

The sound of footsteps reached him first. Light. Steady. Familiar.

And then she appeared.

Avni.

Three years hadn’t erased her presence. Her hair was longer, her frame more confident, her eyes sharper. But beneath it all, she was still Avni. Still the girl who had been his whole world once.

Her gaze brushed past him like he was invisible.

“Avni, beta!” Riya exclaimed warmly, rushing forward. “It’s been too long.”

Avni bent to touch her feet, then greeted Ashok politely. But her eyes never once lingered on him.

“Sit, sit,” Riya urged, already calling for tea.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Aditya swallowed. “Hello, Avni.”

She looked at him then. Her voice calm, but sharp as glass. “Hello.”

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

The parents exchanged quick glances but said nothing.

Avni

She had promised herself she wouldn’t come. Yet here she was, forced into this house by her parents’ insistence.

And there he was.

Aditya.

Her chest tightened when their eyes met, but she hid it behind a mask of indifference. She had waited three years to prove he no longer had power over her. She wouldn’t let one glance undo that.

Her mother placed a tray of tea between them. “Avni, why don’t you sit next to Aditya? You two have so much to catch up on.”

Avni stiffened. “I’m fine here.” She sat at the far edge of the sofa, as distant as she could manage.

Ashok tried gently. “Adi, you should ask Avni about her internship. She’s worked hard for it.”

Aditya turned, opened his mouth. “How is..”

But Avni stood abruptly. “Excuse me.” She walked away before he could finish.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Riya’s smile faltered. She glanced at her husband, her eyes heavy with regret. Ashok sighed quietly. They both understood this wasn’t going to be easy.

Aditya

He had tried. Just one word, one question. And she had cut him off like his voice didn’t exist.

It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

Her anger, her silence he deserved it. He knew that. But still, some part of him had hoped.

Hoped she might at least look at him without flinching.

Instead, she had walked away.

And his parents had seen it. The weight in their eyes said it all: disappointment, guilt, helplessness.

Aditya clenched his fists in his lap. He didn’t blame her for hating him. But facing it hurt more than he’d prepared for.

That Evening – Aditya

The house had grown quiet. Relatives gone, his mother retired to her room.

Aditya stepped onto the balcony, letting the cool night air brush his face. The stars above were bright, indifferent.

His phone buzzed.

Sophia.

He answered quickly. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she teased. “So, first day back. Did India survive you?”

Aditya chuckled, the sound surprising even him. “Barely.”

“Don’t tell me you already got into trouble.”

“Not trouble.” He hesitated. “Just… complicated.”

Her voice softened. “Adi… don’t lose yourself in the past, okay? Whatever you’re carrying, breathe through it. One day at a time.”

His throat tightened. “It’s not that easy.”

“I know.” A pause, then a lighter tone. “Still… I miss you. Come back soon. London feels quieter without you.”

He smiled faintly. “It’s only been a day, Sophie. But I missed you too. I’ll see you guys soon.”

Her laugh warmed the silence. “Don’t fight with everyone before I get to visit, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

When the call ended, he stood there a moment longer, phone heavy in his hand.

Avni

From her bedroom window, Avni saw him.

Leaning on the balcony, phone in hand, smiling. Smiling in a way she hadn’t seen all day.

Her chest clenched painfully.

She told herself it didn’t matter. Whoever was on the other end of the line could have that smile. She didn’t want it anymore.

And yet, as she closed her curtains with trembling fingers, she couldn’t stop the thought from echoing inside her:

Three years, and you still have the power to hurt me.

I hope you’re enjoying the story so far 🤍 Don’t forget to like and comment — your thoughts mean the world to me! New updates every Wednesday and Sunday, so stay tuned!