The Promise : Our Journey Through Love

The Promise

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Her eyes seemed to search through the throngs of people, a longing expression etched on her face, as if she were searching for something precious—a part of herself lost to time. Yet today, it felt as if she were not winning.

Red and pink hearts dotted the streets, plastered against walls and windows, reminders of the holiday that enveloped everyone in its embrace.

"Valentine's Day."

The air was thick with the sweet scent of chocolates and confections as people rushed past, each one eager to buy a special gift for their beloved, desperate to convey their love.

Among the sea of reds, pinks, and couples, a girl walked slowly, gracefully, showing no signs of urgency to meet someone special.

Her long black hair swayed with her every movement, cascading down her back. The black bangs veiled her brown eyes, obscuring the world’s curiosity.

At 5'3", she possessed curves in all the right places. Her pale skin, touched by a hint of tan, contrasted sharply with the short black dress that grazed her upper knees, revealing long legs that seemed to carry the weight of her sorrow.

Around her neck hung a small silver heart necklace, its diamond glinting in the sunlight, yet today it seemed unusually dim, mirroring her sadness.

If one looked closely, they would see her typically bright eyes downcast, echoing the hollow ache within.

Today, amidst the fervor of love, she felt the sharp pang of loneliness.

"Valentine's Day," she thought, "the day for lovers."

But to her, it felt like a cruel joke. She had nothing against the holiday itself; it was the relentless parade of happy couples that made her heart ache. She was tired of standing alone while others skipped into their sunsets, oblivious to her quiet despair.

And yet, she knew it was her own doing. Time and again, she had turned away chances at love. Whenever she let someone in, it never felt right—an invisible barrier held her back. Some called her "cold-hearted," but she never intended to break anyone's heart; something within kept her waiting for the one who had promised to return.

"Rahul Malhotra."

She had waited, year after year, for him to keep his promise. But after six long Valentine's Days spent alone, doubts crept in like shadows. Did he even remember her? Or had he moved on, perhaps with someone far more beautiful?

Just the thought of sending a pang through her chest. She desperately wanted to believe in him, yet with each passing year, the hope felt increasingly like a fragile thread ready to snap. At fifteen, she believed him wholeheartedly. Now, at twenty-one, those words echoed in her mind, soft but insistent:

"I promise. Wherever I go, whatever the distance that separates us… I will come back to you."

Those words had been her lifeline, nurturing a small sapling of hope. But now, it withered under the weight of time, each year stripping a piece from her heart.

She sighed, lowering her gaze to the ground, and slowly made her way home, bracing herself for another lonely Valentine's Day, another year without him.

Her vision blurred as unshed tears welled in her eyes.

"Nahi, Isha! Tu nahi ro sakti aaj!" she admonished herself. No tears, not today. She had enough pride to resist breaking down in public. Yet, around her, the world continued in blissful ignorance, focused on their own romantic plans, while she remained an outsider.