Rhea typed the message slowly, her fingers trembling slightly.
“I know it’s been a while. But I still think about you every day. If there’s even the slightest chance you feel the same, let’s talk.”
She stared at it for a long minute. Her thumb hovered above the Send button. It had been eight months since Aryan left with no explanation—no goodbye, no closure. Just silence. But her heart never stopped waiting.
Just send it, her mind whispered. What’s the worst that can happen?
She closed her eyes and hit Send.
Moments later, her phone buzzed.
“I think you sent this to the wrong person. But… wow.”
Rhea’s eyes widened. She opened the chat and checked the name. It wasn’t Aryan. Somehow, she had sent the message to Riaan Mehta, a junior from her college she barely knew. He was one year below her, quiet, always in the library. They’d only spoken once, during a book exchange event.
Her fingers flew across the screen.
“Oh no! I’m SO sorry! That message was not meant for you. Total mistake 😅 Please ignore it!”
She buried her face in a pillow, mortified.
A few seconds later, his reply came.
“No worries. But if it means anything… that was the most heartfelt message I’ve ever received.”
She didn’t respond. There was nothing else to say. It was embarrassing enough.
But two days later, he messaged again.
“Hey, not trying to pry. Just wanted to say your words made me feel something. Hope you're okay.”
She hesitated. Then, for some reason even she couldn’t explain, she typed back.
“I’m okay. Just dealing with old memories, I guess.”
He replied almost instantly.
“We all have ghosts. Some just haunt louder.”
That line stayed with her.
Over the next few days, the texts didn’t stop. At first, they were short exchanges—quotes, thoughts, a funny meme or two. Then they became longer. She learned that Riaan was a poet at heart, secretly writing under a pen name on an anonymous blog. He discovered that Rhea played the guitar when no one was around, and wrote songs she never shared.
They talked about college pressure, family expectations, favorite books, fears of not being “enough.” No judgment. No filters. Just two people who weren’t supposed to talk… talking.
One night, he messaged:
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“Your accidental message was the first time in months that I felt seen.”
She stared at the screen for a long time before replying:
“Me too.”
Weeks passed. Their chats moved to voice notes. Then calls. One night, after two hours of talking about everything and nothing, he said:
“I know we were never close in college, but... I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Rhea smiled. “Same. Weird, huh?”
“Weird,” he agreed. “But good weird.”
One Sunday morning, he messaged her a simple line:
“Meet me at Bloom Café today at 4?”
Her heart skipped.
They had never met in person since the accidental message.
“Okay,” she replied, after a pause. “See you there.”
The café smelled like cinnamon and warmth. She reached first, nervous, fingers tapping on her cup.
Then he walked in—taller than she remembered, wearing a grey hoodie and that familiar half-smile. He spotted her and waved awkwardly.
“Hi,” he said, sitting across from her.
“Hi,” she echoed.
There was a moment of silence. Then they both laughed.
“Finally,” he said. “I was starting to think you were AI.”
She rolled her eyes. “You wish.”
They talked for three hours straight. It felt like coming home.
As they left, he said quietly, “I’m really glad you sent that message.”
She looked at him. “Even though it wasn’t meant for you?”
“Especially because it wasn’t.”
Over the next few months, Rhea realized something. While she had written that message for someone who left, life had delivered it to someone who showed up.
Riaan became her confidant, her closest friend, her safe space. They never rushed anything. But the feeling grew, slow and steady, like a song written without pressure—just pure emotion.
One evening, as they watched a meteor shower on his terrace, Riaan turned to her.
“Do you ever wonder how different life would’ve been if you hadn’t sent that message?”
She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “All the time.”
He hesitated. “Rhea, I know I wasn’t the person you wanted that day. But I want to be the person you want now.”
She looked up at him, heart full.
“You already are.”
Two Years Later
They sat at the same café where they had first met. This time, there was a small box on the table.
Inside it was a folded piece of paper. Her original message.
“I know it’s been a while. But I still think about you every day...”
Beneath it, he had written in his own handwriting:
“Me too. Since the day you texted the wrong person.”
As she looked up with tears in her eyes, Riaan went down on one knee.
“Sometimes the wrong number leads to the right person. Will you marry me?”
Rhea laughed through her tears.
“I already said yes the moment I replied to your first message.”
And she did again.
[End]
(Exactly 1000 words)
Let me know if you'd like a shorter version or one with a twist ending instead — or even a school-level version!
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