In The Backdrop Of The Rain



The rain fell in soft, rhythmic patterns against the café window, streaking down the fogged glass like silent confessions. Outside, Delhi’s familiar chaos continued the faint hum of traffic, the distant honking of impatient drivers, the splashes of auto-rickshaws through rain-filled potholes. Inside the café, however, a different kind of storm brewed.

Aarav sat at a corner table, flipping through the pages of an old, tattered novel. His crisp white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, but the cup of steaming chai beside him remained untouched. His fingers traced the worn edges of the book absentmindedly, his mind lost elsewhere.

The soft metallic jingle of the café doorbell broke through the ambient murmur of conversations. Aarav’s fingers froze mid-turn. Slowly, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze lifted.

And there she was.

Avani.

She stepped inside, shaking droplets off her floral umbrella. A mustard-yellow kurta clung to her slightly damp frame, the edges darkened by the rain. Her hair was tousled, stray curls escaping their careful tucks. For a brief second, she hesitated at the door, scanning the café, searching.

Then, their eyes met.

Everything else faded. The café sounds, the smell of fresh chai, the clatter of spoons against ceramic all of it disappeared into an eerie silence. Aarav’s grip tightened around the book, his knuckles whitening. Avani took a hesitant step forward, then stopped.

A thought ran through his mind, unbidden, unspoken.

It’s been three years… and yet, she walks in as if no time has passed. What are you doing here, Avani?

For a moment, neither of them moved. The tension between them was palpable, stretching like an invisible thread.

Some doors close forever. Or so we think.


Avani stood still, her grip tightening around the handle of her umbrella. The faint jingle of its metal tip against the floor was the only sound between them.

Aarav hadn’t moved either. His eyes stayed locked on hers, confusion warring with something deeper something that looked a lot like pain.

Finally, his voice broke the silence.

“Avani…?”

Her breath hitched at the sound of her name on his lips. She nodded, but it wasn’t a greeting. More like an acknowledgment. A confirmation of something neither wanted to say aloud.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she murmured, her voice carrying an unmistakable edge of urgency.

Aarav’s heart pounded, a familiar ache settling in his chest. Without realizing it, he stood up, pushing his chair back sharply.

“Then why are you here?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Avani parted her lips to respond, then hesitated. Her gaze flickered toward the door, as if contemplating an escape. But then, she took a deep breath and steadied herself.

She stepped closer. Something about the movement tentative yet determined made his stomach twist. He noticed the way she held her wrist, almost hiding it.

His gaze dropped to her arm, catching a faint bruise barely visible beneath her sleeve. His expression shifted from disbelief to concern.

“What happened to your wrist?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She pulled her sleeve down quickly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s nothing. It’s not important.”

He wasn’t convinced.

Avani met his eyes again. “I didn’t come here for that, Aarav. Not for your questions.”

Aarav swallowed, trying to read between the lines. She had always been good at hiding things especially things that hurt her.

“Then why are you here?” he asked again.

Her voice dropped lower, almost pleading.

“I need you to listen. That’s all.”

Aarav stared at her, unreadable. The rain outside intensified, drumming against the glass. The café door was left open just a crack, letting in a gust of cool air.

Then Avani exhaled, her voice laced with something heavier this time.

“I didn’t just come to find you, Aarav. I came because there’s something I need to tell you… before it’s too late.”

The words sent a chill down his spine.

Before what, Avani? And why does it feel like time is running out?

Suddenly Avani’s phone rings and she lefts without saying anything. She went out, hurriedly looking for a ride to airport. Her phone turned off, and out of chivalry, Aarav offered her a ride.

The rain hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had gotten heavier. The city was wrapped in a cold mist, headlights casting hazy glows over the wet roads. Inside the car, the silence was thick, pressing against them like an unspoken truth.

Aarav drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the gear shift. Avani sat beside him, staring out the window, watching raindrops race down the glass.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Then, softly

“Do you ever wonder,” Avani murmured, still looking out at the city lights, “what would have happened… if we hadn’t fought that day in the college, and then our further escapades?”

Aarav’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He didn’t answer immediately. The past had always been a dangerous road to revisit.

They went into a Flashback.

The library was quiet except for the occasional rustling of pages and the soft tapping of fingers against keyboards. The warm yellow glow of the lamps cast long shadows over the wooden tables. Outside, the rain pattered softly against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside.

Aarav sat with his books spread out in front of him, his usual cocky smirk replaced by a look of quiet determination. Across from him, Avani flipped through a thick stack of notes, her brow furrowed. The tension in the air was suffocating, like an invisible battle line had been drawn between them.

And then, like a match thrown into gasoline, it exploded.

“You had no right to do that, Aarav!” Avani’s voice, though hushed, was sharp enough to slice through the stillness of the library.

Aarav leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Do what, exactly? Win?”

Avani’s fingers curled around the edge of her notebook. “You know damn well what I mean. The publishing contest, you knew I was working on that piece for months! And somehow, miraculously, your article, your oh-so-brilliant article, was almost identical to mine!”

Aarav exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re accusing me of stealing your work? That’s low, even for you.”

Avani slammed her book shut, the sound reverberating through the silent library. A few heads turned, but she didn’t care. “You saw my draft, Aarav! You read my notes when we were, ” She stopped herself, swallowing hard. When we were what? Friends? More?

Aarav’s jaw tightened. “You’re acting like I don’t have my own ideas. Maybe, just maybe, I was always better at this than you wanted to believe.”

She scoffed, eyes flashing with fury. “Better? Better? If you were better, you wouldn’t have needed to use my words!”

Aarav stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “Maybe you just can’t handle the fact that someone else is just as good as you, if not better.”

Avani’s breath hitched. “You really think that’s what this is about? That I’m jealous of you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said enough.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain outside pounded harder against the glass, and in the silence that followed, something between them shattered, something neither of them knew how to fix.

Avani grabbed her bag and turned on her heel. “Congratulations, Aarav. You won.”

And with that, she walked away.

He didn’t stop her.

Maybe that was his biggest mistake.

Years had passed, but the fire between them hadn’t dimmed, it had only been buried under layers of time, resentment, and unspoken words.

The screen bursts with energy, a grand Literature & Business Conclave in Delhi. The hall is filled with scholars, entrepreneurs, and journalists. The air is thick with intellectual debates and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Aarav Malhotra, the arrogant yet charming bestselling author-turned-entrepreneur, stands at the center of a group, effortlessly holding their attention. He’s known for his witty remarks, sharp tongue, and magnetic presence.

Avani Khanna enters, clad in a white saree with a black embroidered border. She exudes power, a journalist who doesn’t just write stories she shakes up the system. She spots Aarav and smirks.

Avani: “Surprised they let you in, Aarav. I thought this conclave was for intellectuals.”

Aarav (grinning): “And yet, here you are still obsessed with me.”

(The audience chuckles. Avani rolls her eyes.)

Avani: “Obsessed? The only thing you’ve mastered is self-praise.”

Aarav (shrugging): “Better than being a journalist who writes fiction and calls it news.”

A brief pause. The rivalry is legendary, their chemistry crackling like fireworks. Before Avani can counter, the moderator announces the debate.

The moderator introduced the two panelists, but the crowd barely needed an introduction. Their names alone carried weight.

Aarav Malhotra. The bestselling author who turned his words into an empire.

Avani Khanna. The fearless journalist who had made empires crumble.

They took their seats, side by side yet worlds apart.

The debate started civilly, but it was only a matter of time before their old wounds bled into their words.

“Aarav,” the moderator began, “you believe storytelling should entertain. Avani, you insist it should inspire change. Can love stories be revolutionary?”

Aarav leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Why do we always want love to carry a message? Can’t it just be… love?”

Avani didn’t hesitate. “Love isn’t just romance, Aarav. It’s power. It’s struggle. It’s ”

Aarav cut in, voice dripping with amusement. “It’s a bestseller if you add some scandal.”

The audience chuckled, but Avani clenched her jaw. “And that’s why your books lack depth.”

Aarav shrugged. “And that’s why your articles lack joy.”

The tension crackled. This wasn’t just a debate it was years of unsaid things, of wounds that hadn’t healed, of a rivalry that had always been too personal.

And then, just as Avani was about to fire back, the screen behind them flashed with breaking news.

A massive scandal had erupted in the publishing world allegations of corruption, data leaks, manipulation of bestsellers.

And both their names were tangled in it.

Silence fell over the hall. The air shifted.

For the first time that night, they weren’t opponents.

They were on the same side of a battlefield neither of them had chosen. The two arc rivals were now supposed to work together.

Behind closed doors, chaos reigned. Legal teams barked orders over the phone. Reporters swarmed outside the building, hungry for a headline. Their reputations were on the line.

Avani paced the length of the private meeting room, arms crossed. “This is ridiculous! I don’t even publish books, how am I involved?”

Aarav, sitting casually on the edge of the table, raised a brow. “You tell me, Miss Journalist. Maybe one of your ‘sources’ leaked something they shouldn’t have.”

She stopped pacing, narrowing her eyes. “Or maybe your publishing house played dirty and got caught.”

Before he could respond, a publishing executive sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough. The media is tearing you both apart. There’s only one way out join forces, prove your innocence, and expose the real culprit.”

Avani and Aarav turned to him simultaneously.

“With them?” they both snapped. “Absolutely not.”

The executive exhaled heavily. “Well, unless you want your careers destroyed, you don’t have a choice.”

Silence.

Avani crossed her arms. “I work alone.”

Aarav smirked. “So do I.”

The executive gave them both a look. “Then start learning how to be a team.”

A long pause. Neither of them wanted this.

And yet…

Avani exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But if he screws this up ”

Aarav interrupted smoothly. “If she screws this up ”

They glared at each other.

And then, begrudgingly, Aarav held out his hand.

Avani stared at it for a moment too long. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she took it.

Their fingers barely touched, but the weight of everything unspoken between them settled like a storm on the horizon.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.
The Grand Unraveling

Aarav and Avani worked tirelessly for weeks, poring over every document, every email, every lead that could expose the corruption. Their grudging partnership slowly turned into an unspoken rhythm late-night coffee runs, heated brainstorming sessions, and the occasional moment of silence where words weren’t needed.

The breakthrough came unexpectedly.

Avani had managed to track a former publishing executive who had been blacklisted after a sudden “resignation.” When they met him in a dimly lit café, he spilled everything the rigged bestseller lists, the bribed critics, and most importantly, the scapegoats the company had planned to pin it all on. Aarav and Avani’s names were just a diversion to keep the real culprits hidden.

With solid proof in hand, they launched a full exposé. Avani’s article hit the headlines, tearing apart the scandal piece by piece. Aarav went live on national television, publicly denouncing the publishing house and demanding accountability. Within hours, lawsuits were filed, resignations poured in, and the industry shook with the force of their combined blow.

They had won.

But somewhere between the late nights and the victory, something else had happened.

Aarav had fallen.

Not in the dramatic, over-the-top way he had always imagined love to be. It was quieter than that. It was in the way Avani’s eyes softened when she was deep in thought, the way she bit her lip when she was about to argue, the way she challenged him like no one else ever had.

And maybe, just maybe, she felt it too.

The night was perfect.

Aarav had planned it down to the last detail a rooftop dinner under the stars, fairy lights twinkling like a scene straight out of a film. Their closest friends were in on the surprise, waiting to celebrate after the big moment. A small velvet box sat in his pocket, its weight heavier than anything he had ever carried.

He wasn’t nervous.

For the first time in his life, he was sure.

But Avani never showed up.

At first, he thought she was running late. Then, as the hours ticked by, concern crept in. He called her. No answer. Texted her. Nothing.

The laughter of his friends faded as they realized what was happening. Someone awkwardly cleared their throat. Someone else muttered, “Maybe something came up?”

But deep down, Aarav knew.

He had been ghosted.

The girl he had finally opened his heart to the one who had become his fiercest rival, his unexpected partner, and, he thought, his love had disappeared.

He laughed, but it was hollow. “Well,” he said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “guess that’s my answer.”

And just like that, the night that was supposed to be the happiest of his life turned into the loneliest.

Avani was gone.

And he had no idea why.


Cut to the current day, the ride!

Finally, he exhaled. “No.”

She turned to look at him, surprised.

“Because if we hadn’t fought…” Aarav continued, glancing at her for just a second before looking back at the road, “I’d have never learned how much I need you.”

Avani’s breath caught in her throat.

She hated that she understood exactly what he meant.

The silence between them grew heavier. Avani looked down at her hands, tracing invisible patterns on her knee.

“I’m leaving tonight,” she said, finally.

“I know.”

“I have to.”

Aarav didn’t respond. His jaw clenched. The wipers kept moving, clearing the raindrops, but inside the car, everything felt still.

A red light forced him to stop. He turned to face her, his eyes dark, searching.

“Do you?” he asked quietly.

Avani met his gaze. The question wasn’t about the flight. It was about everything.

Before she could answer, the honking of impatient drivers behind them broke the moment. The light turned green. Aarav sighed and started driving again.

Minutes later, they reached the airport.

He parked but didn’t move to unlock the doors. Neither did she.

Finally, Avani reached for the handle, but stopped midway. She turned to him, her voice barely a whisper.

“If I stay… will you fight with me forever?”

Aarav let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Always.”

She smiled, just slightly. Then, she stepped closer. His hand moved instinctively toward hers.

But just before their fingers touched

The airport announcement called for boarding.

Avani inhaled sharply.

And then, she stepped back.

Aarav didn’t stop her.

He watched as she walked away, her figure disappearing into the crowd.

Did she leave?

Or did she turn back?

He never found out.

Because love stories never really end.