Stuck Voyage of 20's

The sun had barely risen, but Ujjain was already humming with life. Temple bells chimed in rhythm with the soft chaos of early morning.

Avantika stood at the tea stall near the old city railway station, her journal in hand, waiting for her friend's brother who had asked her to meet him there for some college notes. She wasn't exactly thrilled — waking up at 6 AM for BBA notes? Not her kind of thrill.

She sipped on the overly sweet chai and looked up absently — and that's when she saw him.

Dhruv:

Dressed in jeans and a backpack slung over his shoulder. Standing near Platform 2. With a duffel bag. Alone.

Her heart dropped like a stone in her chest.

She couldn't move for a moment. Time paused around her like the universe giving her a choice: walk away and pretend she didn't see, or walk up and ask why it felt like a goodbye he never planned to say.

She chose the latter.

"Is this your idea of 'just college stuff'?" she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Dhruv froze. Slowly, he turned.

His eyes widened slightly — he hadn't expected to be caught.

"Avantika…"

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Nagpur. It's a 15-day sports coaching camp. I got selected last minute."

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"I didn't know how."

She stared at him. "You didn't know how? After last night, after everything we said—"

"I didn't want it to be real," he cut in. "I didn't want to ruin it. That moment… with you by the ghat… I didn't want to end it with a 'Hey, I'm leaving tomorrow.'"

Her eyes welled up, but she blinked quickly. "So you chose silence?"

"I chose not to hurt you."

"Well… mission failed."

There was silence again. Only the distant horn of a train approaching the station broke it.

She stepped back. "You know, I thought maybe… maybe the universe was putting us in the same place for a reason."

"It is," he said softly. "To show us that some people arrive when you least expect them… and sometimes they leave just the same way."

Her lips trembled. "You could've at least let me say goodbye properly."

The train pulled in, screeching, as people bustled past them.

Dhruv looked down at his ticket, then back at her.

"You want to know the truth?" he asked.

She looked up.

"I didn't tell you because a part of me wanted to stay."

The announcement rang across the platform.

"Train number 20848 to Nagpur now arriving at Platform 2…"

He walked past her, stopped, and turned once more.

"I'll come back," he said.

She didn't nod. She didn't smile.

She just whispered, "You better."

And then he was gone.

The train rolled forward. And Avantika stood there — still, silent — in the middle of a crowded platform, feeling the emptiness only someone who had just begun to matter could leave behind.