The Love I Couldn't Return

From the moment I met Liam, I knew he was someone special. He had this way of looking at me, like I was the only person in the world. It wasn’t just admiration—it was devotion, that settled in his eyes every time he spoke to me.

It started in college, a friendship born out of convenience at first. We were in the same literature class, and he always sat next to me, always saving me a seat. He’d lend me his notes when I missed a lecture, offer me coffee when I looked tired, and listen—really listen—when I talked about things that probably didn’t matter to anyone else.

I knew. I knew how he felt before he ever said it.

It was in the way he laughed at my worst jokes, the way he memorized the way I took my coffee, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

And I wanted to love him back. God, I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I loved him, but not in the way he needed me to. Not in the way he deserved.

The confession came on a winter evening, after finals. Snow was falling softly outside the café where we always met, and he was fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. His fingers trembled slightly, his eyes flickering with something like hope but also fear.

"I think I'm in love with you," he said, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his gaze. "No, I know I am."

I should have seen it coming. Maybe I did. Maybe I just ignored it because acknowledging it meant hurting him.

"Liam," I started, my chest tightening, "I—"

"You don’t have to say anything," he interrupted quickly, a small, nervous laugh escaping him. "I just needed to tell you. I—I know you might not feel the same way, and that’s okay. I just wanted you to know."

I hated the way his words cracked, the way his fingers clenched into fists on the table. I hated myself for not being able to return what he was offering so freely.

"I love you," I admitted, because it was true in a way. "But not the way you want me to."

I watched his heart break in real-time. It was there in the way his shoulders sagged, in the way he forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He nodded, swallowing hard, and for a moment, I wished I could reach inside myself and rearrange my feelings—turn friendship into love, rewrite my heart so that it belonged to him the way his belonged to me.

But love doesn’t work that way.

For weeks after, things were strained. He tried to pretend like everything was the same, but it wasn’t. The seat beside me in class stayed empty more often. Our café meetups became rare. And when we did talk, the easy comfort between us had been replaced by careful words and quiet sadness.

Time passed. We both graduated. He moved away for work, and I stayed behind, chasing my own dreams.

We kept in touch for a while—occasional texts, brief calls—but eventually, even those faded. And I told myself it was for the best. That maybe, somewhere out there, he’d find someone who could love him the way I couldn’t.

Years later, I saw him again.

It was in a ladies clothing store, of all places. He was standing in the aisle, flipping through a magazine, and for a second, I hesitated.

Then he looked up, and his eyes met mine.

And he smiled. A real, genuine smile.

Beside him, a woman appeared, her hand slipping easily into his. She said something to him, and he laughed—light and carefree, the way he used to before I broke his heart.

And just like that, I knew he was okay.

I knew he had moved on.

And as I walked away, I told myself that this was how it was always meant to be.

I was happy for him, yet a piece inside me was broken. It was not love, I was aware, but what was it? I don't know.

A sudden jerk flung me around. It was him, holding my hand, panting as if he ran. A mixture of happiness and fear on his face.

"Hi, I expected you to atleast greet before leaving." He said panting. His hand still holding onto mine.

"Uhm, hi... I didn't wanna disturb your date." I replied, slipping my hand out of his tight grip, reluctantly.

"My date? Oh no, no, you got it wrong. That's my sister. I was just helping her shop, driving through the city. Unpaid chauffeur you know." He laughed, rubbing his neck. I was noticing his every move, he was nervous.

"I'm sorry... I... I thought..." "It's fine, I know we don't look alike. She was picked from the trash can." He raised his eyebrows, signalling towards the bin a little far to our left. I was shocked at his statement, his sense of humor was difficult for me to catch on.

"That.. was a joke. You know the basic siblings joke. Haha" he laughed again, explaining to me as he knew I was slow on catching on.

"Haha, good one." I smiled and fake laughed.

"Are you seeing someone?" His sudden question startled me.

"No," I replied awkwardly.

"Thank God, I'm glad." His smile widened, with relief painted over his face

"Excuse me?" I wasn't expecting that reaction from him.

"Can I ask you out again? I don't mind if you don't love me yet, I will make you. I will do my best, and I am sure I'll succeed. I promise I will make you fall in love with me. And, since you aren't seeing anyone, I guess I still have a chance. Please say yes." He completed the whole confession in one go, making me go speechless.

"But what if..." "Let's not risk our future at the cost of a few 'ifs' and 'buts'. I don't wanna be drowned with regrets again. I'll answer all your 'what ifs' with a better solution each time. Not just with words but actions. If you fear not loving me back, trust me I'll make you. I have already been yours since an eternity, we're already half way through. All I need to do is make you mine. And I'll make it happen for sure. Mark my words." He looked determined. More determined than ever. His voice was confident, words were clear, eyes fixed on mine. And my heart... My heart already ready to take the bait.

I nodded. A smile reflecting his, plastered on my face. And the next moment I was already in his arms.

Love is not always two sided. But you never know unless you give it a chance. 

Har mulaqat me kuch na kuch hamse chura hi leti hai ye,

phir bhi tamanna agli mulaqat ki Teri ankhon se hoti hai

"Everytime we met they stole something from me, yet I await to meet your eyes once again"

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