Chapter 8

The next morning, the college campus was washed clean from the night’s rain, the air crisp with the scent of damp earth. Poornima Rai arrived early, her steps quiet but her heart carrying an unusual rhythm. In her hand was the umbrella—his umbrella.

She entered the staff room, her eyes instinctively searching. Without a word, she walked over to Veeresh Raj’s desk. It was neatly arranged, his presence not yet there. Carefully, almost with reverence she didn’t fully understand, she placed the umbrella on the corner of his table.

For a moment, she hesitated. Her eyes lingered on the chair, on the desk, as if expecting him to appear at any moment. She told herself it was simple courtesy—that she was just returning what she had borrowed. Yet her gaze kept scanning the room, unconsciously looking for the tall, commanding figure of the economics professor.

Why am I waiting? she wondered silently, adjusting the books in her arms. She had no answer, only the faint warmth of a smile that came unbidden when she thought of his words in the rain.

The clock reminded her of her class. With a soft sigh, she turned, her white dupatta trailing behind her as she walked out. She passed by Veeresh’s table once more, her fingers almost itching to leave a note, a thank you, something more. But she didn’t.

Instead, she carried her thoughts with her into the corridor, into the classroom, and into another day.

Unbeknownst to her, Veeresh Raj was at that very moment stepping out of a meeting across town—papers signed, eyes sharp, his mind split between the mission waiting for him and the faint image of a literature professor who smiled differently from anyone else.

Two worlds still moving in parallel.

Two hearts slowly beginning to notice the absence of the other.