Misread Hearts

Misread hearts

By MD. Siraj Uddin

It all began exactly seven years and three hours ago—from now, 5 July, 4:04 PM.

During a break from my studies, I was in Faridpur, trying to learn butchering skills to prepare for future camping trips. My aunt suggested I work at a local chicken shop, and I agreed. I didn’t know then, but that little shop was where I’d first see the girl who would change my life forever.

I was busy with orders when she walked up to me, asking if her chicken was ready. I was confused—I wasn’t preparing hers, but an order for a senior officer. Usually, a constable came to collect it. Just then, the constable arrived, and I handed him the chicken, saying, “Here’s uncle’s order, just the way he likes it.” He smiled and said, “That’s his daughter, Sufiya.”

I quickly apologized to her—I didn’t know. I had a lot of work to do, so I returned to it without getting a good look at her face. But even from that brief moment, I remember thinking, she’s beautiful.

After that day, she started coming more often to pick up the orders. For some reason, the constable wasn’t coming anymore. Curious, I asked her politely, “Where’s constable uncle today?” She smiled and replied playfully, “Don’t you like me being here?” Her tone was teasing. I got nervous and stammered something about how I was just surprised. She then asked, “When do you get off work?”

Before I could properly answer, a hotel order came in, and I had to rush. In the middle of the chaos, I told her I usually get off around 1–2PM. She asked for my number, but I didn’t hear her properly in the work pressure.

That night, I received a WhatsApp message from an unknown number. I normally don’t reply to strangers, so I ignored it. The next day, she showed up at the shop and asked why I hadn’t replied. I was surprised. “How did you get my number?” I asked. She was a bit rude—but in a sweet, funny way—and it made me smile. She said she really liked talking to me, and slowly, we started messaging and calling more often.

One Friday, she insisted we go hang out. She wanted to treat me to some snacks at Police Line. I agreed, even though I didn’t know where it was. She told me to wait near Tepakhola Lake, and she picked me up in a beautiful white car. I loved that car—it was clean and elegant, like her.

We spent the whole evening together. She didn’t let me pay for anything, and we laughed like old friends. That day marked the beginning of a beautiful bond. We talked for hours, sometimes through the night. At first, I used to tell her, “I like you too—as a friend” whenever she said she liked me. But deep down, I knew something more was growing.

Then came August 18th, a day I’ll never forget—our unofficial anniversary. It was also the day everything began to fall apart…