Ten years earlier.
"Excuse me! That's my auto!"
Aarav turned just as a girl in a yellow kurta slammed the door of the auto he was about to sit in. She looked furious—and completely out of breath.
"Yours?" Aarav raised an eyebrow. "You weren't even here."
"Yeah, because I was running for my life from a street dog to get to this auto."
The driver looked between the two, confused and mildly entertained.
Aarav chuckled. "Fine. You take it."
He stepped back. The girl blinked in surprise. Most Delhi rich kids would've argued, or worse—thrown money. He just smiled and let it go.
"Thanks…" she mumbled, a little awkwardly, as she got in.
"Don't thank me," he said, "Just hope the dog doesn't follow."
The auto zoomed off. She didn't look back.
He did.
---
Aarav Mehra wasn't your typical billionaire heir. Yes, he wore Armani to class, had a driver who doubled as a bodyguard, and his backpack probably cost more than most tuitions. But beneath it all, he was... curious.
Curious about her.
The girl with almond eyes, a sarcastic tongue, and a polka-dot umbrella.
Her name? Rhea Sharma.
She studied literature, took buses instead of cabs, and had a deep, almost philosophical hatred for "rich boys who think life is a checklist."
"So, what do you want to be?" he asked one day, trying not to sound too interested.
"Happy," she said, flipping through her poetry book.
He laughed. "That's not a career."
She looked at him, serious for the first time. "Neither is being born with everything and still searching for more."
It hit him like cold water.
That was the day he fell in love.
---
But love was rarely convenient.
Especially when his mother thought she was "a charming distraction," and her father thought he was "a walking red flag in Gucci."
Still, they found their ways.
In small corners of the city.
On rooftops with cheap fairy lights.
In bookstores where they left notes inside novels neither of them could afford.
He started keeping instant noodles in his penthouse.
She started sneaking him poetry written under dim hostel lights.
And sometimes, late at night, he'd read her verses out loud to the city skyline and whisper, "She's going to break my heart someday."
---
Years passed.
They grew up. Or rather, life forced them to.
Aarav was pulled deeper into the business empire. Rhea got a scholarship abroad.
They promised to meet on New Year's Eve.
To run away. To start over.
She never came.
And he never asked why.