The Love I Never Saw Coming

Pov : Nisha’s Pov

I have always believed that some days are simply meant to go wrong. Mine began with a missed alarm, an argument with my mother, and a job rejection email that arrived before I'd even finished breakfast.

By five in the evening, I had decided that the universe and I needed some time apart. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. It started raining just as I stepped out of the bookstore.

Not the romantic kind of rain you see in movies, where the heroine smiles at the sky and her hair somehow looks perfect.

No.

This was the kind of rain that ruined your sandals, soaked your clothes, and made you question every decision that had led you outside. "Perfect," I muttered, staring at the sky.

I had two options: run to the bus stop and arrive home looking like a drowned rat, or wait until the rain stopped.

Naturally, I chose the third option. I went back inside the bookstore.

And that's where I met him.

***

The bookstore was nearly empty when I returned.

A soft Tamil melody played somewhere behind the counter. The smell of freshly brewed coffee floated through the air, and tiny streams of rainwater trickled down the windows.

I wandered towards the fiction section, picked up a book, and began reading its back cover.

"That one's overrated."

I looked up.

A man stood on the opposite side of the bookshelf, holding a cup of black coffee. Black shirt. Rolled-up sleeves. Messy hair that looked annoyingly good despite the weather. And a face that suggested he had never once doubted his own opinion.

"Excuse me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The book," he explained, pointing towards my hand. "It's overrated."

I glanced at the cover before looking back at him.

"Have you read it?"

"Unfortunately," he replied.

"Then congratulations. You survived."

He smiled.

Not a proper smile. More like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"I was just trying to save you some time," he said.

"And I was just trying to read in peace," I replied, turning back towards the bookshelf.

For a second, he looked genuinely surprised.

Then he laughed.

"Fair enough."

I turned away, feeling rather pleased with myself.

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

***

Ten minutes later, I was sitting at a little table near the window, reading the exact book he'd warned me about.

A cup of hot chocolate sat beside me. Outside, the rain had only grown heavier.

"Still reading that?"

I didn't even have to look up.

"You again?" I asked.

He stood beside my table, looking far too amused.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the empty chair.

"No," I replied immediately.

He blinked. I smiled sweetly.

"See? I can give unsolicited opinions too." I said.

This time, he actually laughed.

"Okay. I deserved that."

He walked towards another table, leaving me alone. Or so I thought.

A few minutes later, the lights flickered. Then everything went dark. A collective groan rose from the handful of customers inside.

"Power cut," someone announced.

I sighed and reached for my phone. Twelve percent battery. Wonderful.

"Need a power bank?"

I looked up.

Of course. Of all the people in Coimbatore, it had to be him.

"Do you work here or something?" I asked.

"No," he replied, holding up a small power bank. "But I'm beginning to think you need supervision."

I stared at him.

He grinned.

And against my better judgment, I laughed. Just a little.

"Fine. Thank you," I said, accepting the power bank.

"You're welcome, bookstore girl.", he said.

"Bookstore girl?", I crashed out.

"Well, you haven't told me your name."

"Maybe I don't want to."

He leaned back in his chair.

"Fair enough. I'm Arjun, by the way."

I looked at him for a moment.

"Nisha."

"Nisha," he repeated, almost thoughtfully.

For some reason, hearing my name in his voice made me look away. Absolutely ridiculous. I had known this man for less than an hour.

***

By the time the electricity returned, the rain had softened into a gentle drizzle. I checked my phone.

7:15 PM. Six missed calls from mom. Oh, I was dead.

I quickly disconnected my phone from the power bank, left it on the table, and handed the power bank back to Arjun and said, "Thanks. I really have to go."

"Everything okay?" he asked, noticing my expression.

"Six missed calls from my mother. What do you think?"

He laughed.

"Good luck surviving that."

"Very funny."

I grabbed my bag, paid for my book, and hurried towards the entrance.

"Hey, Nisha!"

I turned around.

Arjun was standing behind me, holding my phone.

"You forgot this."

My heart nearly stopped.

"Oh my God! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," he said, shaking his head with an amused smile.

I took my phone and rushed outside. The rain had almost stopped. I had just reached the pavement when I heard him call out again.

"Nisha!"

I closed my eyes. “What now?”

I turned around. He was holding up my book. I looked at my empty hand. You've got to be kidding me.

He walked towards me, laughing.

"You're really not having a good day, are you?"

"Please don't talk," I groaned.

He handed me the book, still smiling.

"Get home safely, okay?"

Something about the way he said it made me pause.

Not flirtatious.

Not dramatic.

Just genuine.

"Thanks, Arjun," I replied.

Then I walked away. And that should have been the end of our story.

But it wasn't.

***

I was halfway home when my phone vibrated.

An Instagram notification.

Someone had sent me a message request.

arjun: So... did you finish that overrated book?

I stopped walking.

WHAT?

I opened his profile. There he was. Black shirt. Messy hair. That annoyingly confident smile.

How on earth had he found my Instagram?

Before I could decide whether to reply, another message appeared.

arjun: Before you accuse me of stalking, I found your public profile through the bookstore's Instagram page. You'd tagged them in your story.

I stared at the screen. Then I remembered.

I'd posted a picture of my hot chocolate earlier that evening and tagged the bookstore.

Wonderful.

Me: So you decided to message a complete stranger?

His reply came almost immediately.

arjun: Technically, I know your name.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: Congratulations. That's very impressive.

Three little dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally, his reply arrived.

arjun: You know, for someone who doesn't like talking to me, you reply surprisingly fast.

I stared at my phone.

The audacity.

I typed a response.

Deleted it.

Typed another.

Deleted that too.

Then I locked my phone and shoved it into my bag. I was absolutely not going to entertain this man.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

Five minutes later, I unlocked my phone again.

Just to check the time.

Obviously.