I Love You

The first raindrop touched his forehead just as he stepped off the last stair of the old library. A drizzle soon followed, washing over the empty cobblestone street like a soft memory brushing against the soul.

Amaan adjusted the collar of his coat and looked up at the sky, as if trying to read something written among the clouds. But his thoughts weren’t about the weather. They never were — not since her.

She was always on his mind. And tonight, he was finally going to say it — not just in silence, not just in the drafts of unsent messages or the lines of old poetry — but to her, face to face.

He clutched the letter in his pocket. The words were simple. Three. But they had never felt heavier.

---

Two Hours Earlier

The café buzzed with the normal noise of a Friday evening. Cups clinked, laughter echoed, and music hummed softly in the background. But Amaan was lost in his own world, staring at the notebook in front of him. Pages filled with unfinished poems, letters never sent, and words he was too afraid to say.

“I don’t know how people do it,” he whispered to himself. “How they just… say it.”

Then his phone lit up.

Ayla: Let’s meet today. I have something to tell you.

His heart stopped for a second. Ayla. The girl who entered his life like a sunrise — silently, gradually, and before he knew it, his nights weren’t dark anymore. They were waiting for her.

They had been best friends for years — through broken phones, sleepless nights, and shattered hearts. And somewhere in those stolen glances, between laughter and tears, he had fallen for her.

---

Now

Under the umbrella, she was already standing — near the old oak tree, where they used to meet after classes. She wore that brown scarf he once teased her about.

He took a deep breath and walked toward her.

Her eyes met his — nervous, soft, yet filled with the same storm he had battled in his heart.

“You came,” she said, voice almost lost in the sound of the rain.

“I always do.”

There was a pause. Not the awkward kind. The sacred kind — where hearts speak louder than words.

She took something from her bag — a folded paper, slightly torn at the edges.

“I was cleaning my drawer,” she said, “and I found this. Do you remember?”

It was the old birthday card he had written for her three years ago. It had a line: "If only you knew what I couldn't say that day..."

He looked at the card, then at her.

Her lips quivered. “I’ve always known. I was just… scared to ruin us.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I love you, Amaan.”

---

Silence.

Not even the rain dared to fall in that moment.

He stepped closer, took her hand in his, and smiled — that kind of smile that only comes after years of waiting, breaking, and believing.

“I love you too.”

---

They stood there for what felt like an eternity. The world moved around them, but their time had paused — locked in that sacred space where two souls finally meet.

Not as friends.

Not as strangers.

But as two hearts that had always spoken the same language — even in silence.

---

Epilogue: One Year Later

Amaan sits by the same oak tree, the sunlight playing on his wedding ring. Ayla is next to him, laughing at something he just said.

In his hand, a notebook. On the cover, the title:

“I Love You — When Three Words Changed Everything.”

He finally wrote the story. But more importantly, he finally lived it.