Chapter 12: The Window Still Open
The morning Eliza was supposed to leave, everything felt heavier.
The sky. Her chest. The goodbye she hadn't yet said.
But before packing the last box, she folded a page and left it on her window.
A poem. A memory. A part of her heart.
And just as she turned to walk away… she heard it.
A knock. On the front door.
She ran.
Her hands trembling, heart pounding.
And when she opened it—
Zayaan was there.
His eyes were red like he hadn't slept.
His breathing uneven, like he'd run all the way.
But he was there.
And Eliza couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
Until he stepped closer.
And whispered,
"I couldn't let you leave without seeing you. Not like this."
She smiled through her tears, her voice barely a breath.
"I was hoping you'd come."
There was silence.
The kind that held everything unspoken between them.
Then Zayaan slowly reached into his pocket.
Pulled out her poem — the one she left by the window.
"You gave me words," he said, "but you also gave me a reason to believe in them."
Eliza stepped forward, her eyes locked with his.
"I'll miss this window," she whispered.
"Me too," he replied.
"But we don't need a window anymore."
Then, gently, he pulled her into a soft, warm hug.
The kind of hug that doesn't say goodbye —
it says "I'll always be with you."
---
The Final Scene
As her car pulled away later that day, Eliza looked back once.
Zayaan stood by the gate, holding a notebook.
Their notebook.
And he waved — not with a smile, but with hope.
Because some stories don't end at goodbyes.
They just…
pause.
And wait to be continued.
---
The End.
For now.