When the Rain Stopped

The rain had just stopped. The scent of wet earth lingered in the air, mixing with the distant fragrance of blooming jasmine. The park was nearly empty, except for a few stray raindrops sliding off the leaves. I sat on the same wooden bench where I had once waited for her, where I had once whispered promises that never came true.

And then, as if the universe had decided to test my heart, she appeared.

Aarini.

She stood a few feet away, holding a red umbrella, her dark hair damp from the rain. Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, time collapsed. The years, the distance, the silence—it all vanished in the space between us.

I swallowed hard. "Aarini."

She hesitated, then walked towards me, closing the distance I had spent years trying to forget. "I didn’t think I’d see you here, Ayan." Her voice was the same—soft, familiar, laced with an ache I could still recognize.

I gave a weak smile. "Neither did I. But I guess some places never change."

She looked around, taking in the empty swings, the puddles on the cobbled path, the memories hanging between us. "No, they don’t."

Silence settled between us, thick with all the words we had never spoken.

"How have you been?" she finally asked.

How was I supposed to answer that? Should I tell her about the nights I spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if she ever thought of me? About the way my heart still stuttered at the mention of her name? Or should I just nod and say, "I’m fine"?

I chose the easy way. "I’ve been good."

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "That’s good."

And then, before I could stop myself, I asked the question that had been buried inside me for years. "Why did you leave that night, Aarini?"

She exhaled sharply, looking away. "Ayan…"

"You owe me an answer," I said, my voice quieter now, almost pleading. "We had plans. We were supposed to leave together. And then, suddenly, you were gone."

Aarini clutched the handle of her umbrella tighter. "I was scared," she admitted. "Scared of what we were, of what we could become. I thought… I thought if I left, I could erase everything. That maybe, one day, it wouldn’t hurt anymore."

I let out a hollow laugh. "And did it?"

Her eyes glistened with something unsaid. "No," she whispered. "It never did."

The rain had stopped completely now, leaving only the quiet drip of water from the trees.

"I waited for you," I said. "For years."

"I know," she replied, her voice breaking. "And I hated myself for it."

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. "Then why didn’t you come back?"

Aarini took a step closer, close enough that I could see the way her lips trembled. "Because I thought you deserved better."

My heart clenched. "I never wanted better, Aarini. I only wanted you."

The weight of our past hung between us, heavy with regret, with love that had never faded, with a thousand what-ifs.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. "I wish I could change everything, Ayan."

I looked at her, really looked at her, and I saw the truth. She was still the girl I had loved. And I was still the boy who would have done anything to hold on to her.

But some things come too late.

I smiled, though my heart ached. "Me too."

She wiped her tear away, straightened her shoulders. "I should go."

I nodded, even though every part of me wanted to ask her to stay.

She turned, walking away slowly, her red umbrella standing out against the grey sky.

I watched until she disappeared, until there was nothing left but the memory of her footsteps on the wet ground.

And then, for the first time in years, I let her go.

Because sometimes, love isn't about holding on.

Sometimes, love is knowing when to say goodbye.