Between Pride and Silence

Some love stories begin with a meeting.
Theirs began with silence.
Before the arguments, before the jealousy, before the leaving-there was a moment neither of them recognized as important. A glance held a second too long. A heartbeat that didn't slow down when it should have.
They didn't fall in love gently.
They collided.
Two people too proud to admit they cared, too afraid to say what they felt, and too broken to know how to love without hurting. One believed control was safety. The other believed leaving was survival.
And so, words were left unspoken.
Trust was replaced with assumptions.
Love was mistaken for possession.
When Ishan Kishan disappeared, he didn't just leave a country-he left behind unanswered questions, unfinished sentences, and a boy who would spend years regretting the moment he chose pride over trust.
When Shubman Gill finally understood the cost of his jealousy, there was no one left to apologize to.
Only memories.
This is not a story about perfect love.
It is a story about mistakes that echo, about pain that changes you, about learning-too late and then again-how to love someone without losing them.
Because sometimes, love doesn't need to be found.
It needs to be earned.