The Serendipitous Encounter

Chapter 27 Unspoken Apologies

Ram Ram ji Sabne,

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Saraswati traveled to the south coast to test the soil, guided by her professor. This opportunity was a rare, once-in-a-lifetime chance, and she was determined to make the most of it. Her professor explained the necessary steps to ensure accurate results, and Saraswati listened intently, absorbing every detail. The fresh coastal air filled her with enthusiasm, and the prospect of hands-on fieldwork excited her. As she carefully gathered soil samples, she felt a deep sense of purpose and passion, knowing that this experience would greatly contribute to her knowledge and future studies.

It was all because of Theodore!

Her thoughts drifted back to their last encounter. She had been overwhelmed with stress about her studies, feeling the pressure of upcoming exams. His sudden arrival at such an odd hour had caught her off guard, heightening her emotions. The unexpected visit only added to her frustration, and she found herself lashing out with harsh words. She regretted how things had gone, knowing that her stress had clouded her judgment. The memory of his hurt expression lingered, making her wish she had handled the situation better. She hoped that next time, she could keep her emotions in check.

Saraswati sat alone in her small hostal room, her thoughts replaying the last encounter with Theodore. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan, but her mind was anything but calm. She couldn't shake the conversation from her mind, her own words echoing back at her. Harsh words? There was nothing harsh about them. "I just stated facts," she told herself, frustration bubbling up. But even as she tried to justify herself, doubt crept in. Had she been too harsh?

Saraswati came from a culture where women were raised with strict morals and customs. In her world, a woman did not even raise her eyes to another man. They were destined to be with one man, chosen by their parents, someone from their own community. That was the life she had always known. Her traditions were her anchor, her guide in the world. But in this new place, so far from home, everything seemed different.

"When did Theodore ever tell you that he wanted you?" she asked herself bitterly. He hadn't. Not once had he crossed that line. She had assumed, accused, without understanding. But what did she know of his customs? Of his way of life? He was not bound by the same traditions, the same rules. Here, in this place so different from her own, no one would think twice if a girl met a boy at night. Hell, life here seemed to begin at night! Kissing, one-night stands—these were not bound by rules, only by choice.

"Theodore is not like me," she thought, the realization hitting her hard. He lived by different customs and traditions, ones she could hardly understand. He had never asked her to betray her own values. He had simply come to her as a friend, seeking her company, looking for solace in a moment of tension. And what had she done? "Spitted facts? Right," she muttered, shaking her head in self-disgust. She had thrown her culture, her morals, at him, as if they were shields to protect herself, not realizing how much they hurt him.

Theodore never saw the differences that she clung to so desperately. Caste, class, system—these meant nothing to him. He had only ever seen her as a person, respected her choices, her space. He hadn't argued when she pushed him away; he had left quietly, respecting her boundaries. Because that's who he was—a man who respected others' choices, even if they hurt him.

Her overthinking, her fears, had led her to this point. She had been here for her studies, for the future of her village. "You will meet many, but will you ever meet someone like Theodore again?" she asked herself. For the past eighteen months, she had struggled—studying, working, living. No one had cared for her, looked out for her, but Theodore had, in his own way. And she had pushed him away.