Chapter 22: Echoes of the Waterfront
The drive back to my apartment was silent, save for the hum of the heater and the rhythm of my own pulse thundering in my ears. Vihaan sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, his reflection ghostly against the glass. He looked like a man who had finally emptied his lungs after holding his breath for years.
I, on the other hand, felt like I was drowning.
When I finally pulled up to his building, he didn't move. He reached out, his hand hovering over mine on the gear shift, but he didn't quite touch me. "I meant what I said, Janvi. I'll wait. I'll prove it."
"Goodnight, Vihaan," I said, my voice sounding hollow even to me.
He stepped out, and I didn't wait for him to reach the door before I drove away. I needed to be alone, but my phone was already buzzing in the cup holder.
Raj.
I had forgotten all about him. I had left him sitting at a table with half-finished drinks and an unanswered question. My stomach twisted with guilt. How could I explain that my "minute of fresh air" had turned into a tearful confession at the waterfront with the man who had once made my life a punchline?
I pulled over to the curb and finally answered.
"Janvi? Where are you? I've been calling for twenty minutes," Raj's voice was laced with genuine panic. "I went outside, but you were gone. Are you okay?"
"Raj, I'm... I'm so sorry," I choked out, the tears I'd been holding back finally spilling over. "Something happened. An emergency. I'm home now."
"An emergency? Do you need me to come over?"
"No!" I said, a bit too quickly. "No, I just... I need to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow. Please, just... forgive me for leaving like that."
There was a long pause on the other end. Raj was many things, but he wasn't dense. He knew there was a missing piece to the puzzle. "Okay," he said softly. "Sleep. But Janvi? Whatever it is, we'll fix it."
I hung up, feeling like a fraud. Raj wanted to fix things, while Vihaan wanted to atone for them. And I was caught in the middle, still feeling like the girl from college who was nothing more than a line item in a ledger.
That night, I didn't dream of Raj's kind smiles. I dreamed of a crowded frat house, the sound of laughter, and the sight of Vihaan pocketing a wad of cash while I watched from the shadows, my heart breaking for the very first time.
The next morning, a delivery arrived at my door. No flowers, no grand gestures. It was a small, weathered notebook. I opened the first page and recognized Vihaan's messy scrawl.
May 14th. Five years ago. I won the money tonight. I've never felt more like a loser in my life. I saw her face in the hallway. I think I've made the biggest mistake of my life.
It was a journal. A record of his regret, spanning years. He wasn't just asking for a second chance; he was handing me the evidence of his own haunting.