Maya hadn’t planned on coming back.

She had spent years convincing herself that this town was too small for her dreams, that leaving was the only way to move forward. But life had a cruel sense of humor, pulling her back when she least expected it. After losing her job, depleting her savings, and feeling utterly lost, she had no choice but to return.

It was supposed to be temporary. Just a pause before she figured out what came next.

Then she saw him.

The rain had started as a drizzle, coating the air in a soft mist. Maya ducked into the old park, letting muscle memory guide her. She hadn’t been here in years, yet nothing had changed—the same rusting swings, the same cracked pavement, the same wooden bench near the pond.

And there, sitting on that bench, was Arjun.

For a moment, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. He was older now, his features sharper, his posture more relaxed. But it was undeniably him. The boy who used to be her best friend. The boy she hadn’t spoken to in ten years.

She could have turned away. Walked in the opposite direction and pretended she hadn’t seen him.

But something in her refused to.

Arjun turned his head, and their eyes met.

A flicker of recognition crossed his face. His brows furrowed, as if he was trying to place her. Then, something softened in his expression.

“Maya?” His voice was cautious, disbelieving.

She let out a breathy laugh, shifting on her feet. “Took you long enough.”

A slow smile tugged at his lips. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Neither was I,” she admitted.

She hesitated for only a second before sitting down beside him, leaving enough space between them to acknowledge the years that had passed. The silence stretched between them, heavy with the weight of unsaid words.

Then, he asked the inevitable question.

“What are you doing back?”

Maya exhaled, tilting her head back to watch the sky. “Got tired of running.”

Arjun hummed in understanding. Maybe he knew exactly what she meant.

For the first time in a decade, they sat together, not as strangers, not as enemies—just two people who had once meant everything to each other. And for now, that was enough.

The Coffee Shop

Minutes turned into an hour. The rain softened, and Maya found herself laughing at something Arjun said about his students. It was strange—how easy it was to fall back into old rhythms.

Then, as if realizing how long they had been sitting there, Arjun stretched. “Come on. Let’s get a coffee.”

Maya hesitated but nodded.

The café wasn’t far—one of those cozy, dimly lit places filled with soft music and the scent of fresh espresso. It was new to her, but Arjun seemed familiar with it. He ordered black coffee, the same as always. She hesitated before ordering a caramel latte. He raised an eyebrow at that.

“You used to hate sweet coffee.”

Maya smirked. “People change.”

He didn’t argue, just led her to a table by the window. They watched the rain-speckled street in silence. Around them, people laughed, whispered, and clinked cups, but all Maya could focus on was the weight in her chest.

“So,” Arjun finally said, stirring his coffee, “you ever—” He stopped, as if deciding against it.

Maya tilted her head. “What?”

He sighed. “You ever wonder what would’ve happened if we never stopped talking?”

Her breath hitched. The question caught her off guard, but maybe it shouldn’t have.

“All the time,” she admitted softly.

His gaze flickered to hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “I used to think we’d never lose touch. That we’d always be in each other’s lives, no matter what.”

Arjun looked down at his coffee. “Me too.”

It was the first time they had acknowledged it. The first time they had spoken about what happened instead of pretending it was just something that naturally faded.

Maya swallowed hard. “Why didn’t we fix it?”

Arjun let out a quiet chuckle, but it wasn’t a happy one. “Because we were stupid.”

Maya smiled, but there was sadness in it. “Yeah.”

They sat in silence, lost in memories. The years they spent as inseparable kids. The way they could talk for hours about everything and nothing. The way it all ended over something neither of them could even remember clearly now.

And then, Maya noticed something.

A couple at the next table, laughing. A man scrolling through his phone while his date stared at him, bored. Another couple arguing in hushed tones.

All these people, all these relationships—searching, struggling, trying.

Hadn’t she done the same? She had spent years dating people who never really understood her, looking for a connection that never quite felt right. And now, sitting across from Arjun, it hit her like a wave.

She had been looking in all the wrong places.

Her heart was racing before she could even process it.

“Arjun,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, and for a second, she saw something in his eyes. Something that told her he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Yeah?”

Maya exhaled sharply. “I think I was wrong.”

He frowned slightly. “About what?”

She swallowed. “About us.”

Arjun stared at her for a long moment. Then, he let out a breath. “You know what’s funny?”

Maya tilted her head. “What?”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

They laughed, quiet and breathless.

Then, the laughter faded, and the reality of it settled in.

For years, they had been running in circles, dating other people, trying to move forward—when the answer had been right in front of them all along.

Arjun leaned forward slightly, his fingers grazing the rim of his coffee cup. “Maya… I never stopped thinking about you.”

Her heart squeezed. “Neither did I.”

Another silence. This one different—charged, expectant.

Arjun rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking nervous. “So, um… do we keep dancing around this or—”

Maya smirked. “You’re really bad at this.”

He groaned. “Give me a break, it’s been ten years.”

She laughed, then, before she could overthink it, reached across the table and took his hand. His fingers tensed for a second before curling around hers, warm and familiar.

Arjun exhaled a shaky breath. “So, what now?”

Maya squeezed his hand. “How about dinner?”

His lips quirked up. “Like a date?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you want it to be?”

His grip on her hand tightened slightly. “Yeah. I do.”

Maya smiled. “Then it’s a date.”

And just like that, ten years of distance, of missed chances, of unsaid words—collapsed into this one moment.

This time, they weren’t walking away.

This time, they were choosing each other.

The end.