DIYA'S POV
The new canteen smelled like spices and nostalgia—warm and inviting in a way that made my chest ache.
I should have been happy.
Maddy was beside me, his arm brushing mine as we walked in, his laugh ringing bright against the chatter of our friends. He ordered noodles without hesitation—the exact dish I'd been too afraid to try—and when he caught me eyeing his plate, he slid it toward me without a word.
"Want some?"
His grin was familiar. Easy. Like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
That morning, beneath the pale gold of campus sunlight, he'd shattered me with quiet words.
"Move on if someone else comes along. Don't put your life on hold for me."
Now, as I took a bite of his noodles, the flavors burst sharp and unfamiliar on my tongue.
Just like this feeling—love that wasn't enough.
Harsh nudged me. "You okay?"
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just thinking."
About how Maddy's eyes still softened when he looked at me.
About how his hands still lingered when he passed me things.
About how none of it mattered, because he'd already let me go.
MADDY'S POV
Diya wasn't eating.
She picked at her sandwich, her gaze drifting to my noodles every few seconds. I knew that look—she wanted to try it but was too afraid to order it herself.
So I pushed my plate toward her.
"Want some?"
Her smile was a ghost of its usual self. "You always know when I'm eyeing your food."
I know a lot of things.
Like how her voice trembled this morning when she asked what we were.
Like how much it killed me to say the words I did.
"Don't wait for me."
Not because I didn't want her to.
But because she deserved more than a broken promise from a guy who couldn't get his shit together.
Now, watching her laugh weakly at Harsh's jokes, I wanted to take it all back.
To pull her aside and say—what?
That I loved her? That I was terrified of failing her? That every time she looked at me with that hope, I wanted to earn it but didn't know how?
My fingers twitched toward hers.
I pulled them back.