A Love That the Rain Took Away

The first time Zayan saw Meher, she was standing in the college library, completely lost in a poetry book. Her eyes, framed by loose curls, glistened under the warm yellow light. She looked peaceful—like she belonged in every line of the poem she read. He didn’t know her, but somehow, his heart already did.

Zayan was the kind of person who never believed in fate, but something about her presence made him pause, like he was standing at the edge of something beautiful—and terrifying. They met again during a class debate. Meher spoke with grace, her voice calm but powerful. Zayan couldn’t look away. After class, he walked up to her. “You debated like a storm,” he smiled. She raised an eyebrow. “And you listened like the calm after it.” That’s how it began.

Coffee turned into conversations. Conversations turned into confessions. And soon, two lonely souls found home in each other’s laughter. Zayan fell in love with how Meher hummed old songs while studying, how she scribbled poems on tissue papers, and how she talked about stars like they were her old friends.

Meher, in turn, loved Zayan’s silence. He wasn’t a loud lover. He was the kind who remembered the date she lost her grandmother and sent her white flowers every year. The kind who never asked for anything but gave her everything. Years passed. Their bond grew stronger. They promised to build a life together after graduation. They dreamed of a small house with a big bookshelf. Zayan applied for jobs, and Meher got into a Master’s program. Everything was going as planned. Until the phone call came.

Zayan’s voice was shaking. “Meher… I need to tell you something.” She rushed to meet him. His eyes were swollen, like he hadn’t slept for days. “I’ve been diagnosed with a heart condition. It’s rare. I need surgery. There’s a risk…” She held his hands tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll fight this together.” And they did. Through hospital visits, painful injections, and sleepless nights, Meher never left his side. She read to him. She brought him mango juice because he hated the hospital food. She smiled, even when her heart was breaking. But some battles, no matter how bravely fought, are lost not in defeat—but in fate. The surgery went wrong. Zayan fell into a coma.

Meher stayed by his bedside every day. She whispered stories into his ears, hoping he could hear her. She brought his favorite book and placed it on the side table. Nurses told her to rest, but she couldn’t leave him. She had once told him, “If you ever fall, I’ll catch you.”Now, she was waiting for him to rise again. One evening, after twenty-one days of hoping and praying, Zayan opened his eyes. Meher gasped. “Zayan… you’re awake!” His lips moved slowly. “You… stayed?” She cried and laughed at once. “Of course I did.”But the joy didn’t last. His body was too weak. He couldn’t move much, couldn’t eat without help. Doctors said his recovery would be slow—and uncertain.But he tried. For her.Until one night, during a quiet storm, Zayan looked at her and whispered, “If I don’t wake up tomorrow, promise me you’ll live.” She shook her head fiercely. “Don’t say that.”He smiled faintly. “Promise me, Meher.”She kissed his hand. “I promise.”

That night, the rain poured harder than ever. Zayan didn’t wake up. His heart, so full of love, simply gave up.Meher didn’t scream. She didn’t cry loudly. She just sat beside him, holding his cold hand, whispering all the things she never got to say.“I thought we’d grow old together.” “I thought I’d watch you fall asleep every night.” “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.” The funeral was quiet. Simple. Just like Zayan. Meher didn’t speak much after that. She visited his grave every Thursday. She brought fresh lilies, the ones he loved. And she read his favorite poem aloud, even though her voice broke every time. She kept her promise. She lived. But something inside her was buried with him.Years later, she published a book of poems titled *“A Love That the Rain Took Away.”*

The dedication read:

To the boy who never stopped loving me—even when his heart couldn’t keep beating.

THE END