Star-Crossed Yet Not Aligned

The Weight of Deception

What is deception, really?

Is it a necessary evil or a destructive force?
Can love and deception coexist, or do they inherently contradict each other?

As I held Aditi's hand, our secret relationship weighed heavily on my mind.

We had agreed to keep our love hidden, but the burden of deception was growing.

"Deception" – the word echoed in my thoughts.

Merriam-Webster defined it as "the act of deceiving or misleading someone."

But what about deceiving those closest to us?

What about hiding our true selves?

Was our secrecy a form of deception? Or was it self-preservation?

Aditi's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Subh, what's bothering you?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

"Us," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "Our secret. Is it deception?"

Aditi's expression turned contemplative.

"I don't know," she said. "But I do know that our love is real."

Real. Yet hidden.

As we slipped into class, Aditi and I exchanged a sly grin, our secret bond crackling with electricity.

"Can you believe we just pulled that off?" Aditi whispered, her eyes sparkling.

"I know, right?" I replied, chuckling. "It's like we're living a secret life."

Aditi's eyes locked onto mine, and we both burst into giggles.

"You won't believe the DMs I got on Instagram yesterday," Aditi said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Try me!" I countered, leaning in.

She scrolled through her phone, her face lighting up. "Okay, so this guy from our class asked me if I wanted to grab coffee... and this other guy asked me to send him my selfie!"

I gasped. "No way! What did you say?"

Aditi winked. "I told him I'd send him a selfie... of my mouse."

We both erupted into laughter.

Then, there was Yash. Our friend asked me to ditch class so he could meet his girlfriend.

"Yash is such a sweetheart," Aditi said, grinning.

"I know, right?" I agreed. "But you're always teasing me about hanging out with him and... you know."

Aditi's eyes sparkled. "I'm just keeping you on your toes."

Our conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and inside jokes.

The chemistry between Aditi and me was undeniable. My roommates, Pankaj and Aman, would often remark on how my face lit up when chatting with her.

"Who's behind that smile?" Pankaj would tease.

Aman would chuckle. "Must be Aditi again."

Every evening, I'd share stories of my day with Aditi – from silly college antics to heartfelt moments. Her laughter and words of encouragement made my days brighter.

Life settled into a comfortable rhythm:

Wake up, college, Aditi time, basketball, night chats.

Energy and satisfaction filled my days.

But, as they say, "smooth seas never made skilled sailors."

Cracks began to appear.

Aditi started canceling plans, citing family issues.

At first, I understood.

Then, the cancellations became frequent.

I sensed a distance growing between us.

One evening, as I waited for her at the cafeteria, she didn't show up.

No call, no text.

My mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.

Panic set in.

What was happening?

Was everything okay?

The night chat that never came.

Left me with an unsettling feeling.

That life, once so enriched and meaningful.

Was unraveling.

Fast.

Days passed, and the silence between us grew thicker.

I tried reaching out, but Aditi's responses were brief and cryptic.

Something was wrong.

One evening, as I walked back to my PG, I saw Aditi's name flash on my phone.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," her text read. "We need to talk."

My mind racing, I replied, "What's going on? You've been distant."

"Meet me at the park tomorrow," she said. "6 PM."

No emojis, no warmth.

A sense of foreboding settled in.

The next evening, I arrived at the park early.

Aditi walked in, her eyes avoiding mine.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

She took a deep breath.

"I've been under a lot of pressure," she said. "Family, studies... I need space."

My heart sank.

"Space from me?" I asked, trying to keep my emotions in check.

Aditi nodded.

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

We sat in silence, the distance between us palpable.

The distance between us was palpable, I thought my heart would shatter.

Then, Aditi's expression transformed.

She burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling.

"Look at your face, dumbass!" she chuckled. "You're so damn serious about me. How could I leave you?"

Relief washed over me.

"What happened?" I asked, still confused.

Aditi's grin lingered.

"There was a wedding in my hometown. I went for it. Phone charging was an issue, and I couldn't call. With all the chaos, I didn't get a chance."

My tension dissipated.

We sorted things out, and I hugged her tightly.

"It's okay," I whispered.

Aditi's arms wrapped around me.

"I missed you," she said.

"Missed you too," I replied.

Our laughter intertwined, filling the park with warmth.

As we walked hand-in-hand, the evening sun casting a golden glow, our connection felt stronger.

No more doubts, no more fears.

Just us.

To be continue