A New Beginning or Goodbye?

At thirty-one, I have learned that the human brain is easier to understand than the human heart.

I can spend twelve hours inside an operating room, separating a tumor from healthy brain tissue with hands that never shake. I can explain complicated diagnoses to frightened families without losing my composure. I can tell someone the chances of recovery with scientific precision.

But I cannot explain why I have spent the last fourteen years loving someone who never knew.

Raghav.

His name still feels like a secret I've memorized.

He was never cruel. Never dismissive. We met during our school days, never friends not because I don't what it but because I knew if I tried it would never go well and I will be the one getting hurt.

I never confessed.

Not because I was afraid of rejection.

Because I was terrified of losing the comfort of simply knowing him.

Now he's living his own happy life with his girlfriend Suhani, and I'm living mine alone.

As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm just Dr. Muskan Patel, Consultant Neurosurgeon at one of the city's busiest hospitals. My patients know me as calm. My colleagues call me a perfectionist. Residents joke that I survive on coffee and determination.

They're not entirely wrong.

My schedule begins before sunrise. Morning rounds at six-thirty. Surgeries that last anywhere between four and fourteen hours. Emergency trauma calls in the middle of the night. Research papers waiting on my desk. Medical conferences that fill whatever weekends I have left.

Work became my refuge.

The hospital never asks why I avoid weddings.

It never questions why every relationship proposal receives the same polite refusal.

Home is different.

My parents believe I'm simply too busy.

They don't know my heart stopped making room for anyone else years ago.

Only one person knows the truth.

Yashasvi.

My best friend since Class tenth.

She's the only person who has watched me grow from the quiet girl who always topped biology into the neurosurgeon everyone respects today. She has seen me cry exactly twice—once when my grandfather passed away and once after I confessed my feeling towards Raghav to her.

She never pushes me.

She only reminds me that loving someone silently is still love, but it shouldn't become a life sentence and I should move one, but I never tried doing it because I was happy with whatever one sided it is.

Sometimes I think she's right.

Sometimes I don't want her to be.

It was nearly ten at night when I finally reached home.

I placed my hospital bag near the sofa and removed my shoes with a sigh.

"Maa?" I called.

" Kitchen me hu," she answered.

The aroma of fresh dal filled the house.

"Aaj fir der se."

"There was an emergency surgery."

She looked at me with the familiar mixture of pride and concern.

"You haven't eaten properly, have you?"

I smiled.

"Esa kuch nahi he maa?"

She served dinner without another word.

For a few peaceful minutes, only the sound of spoons against plates echoed through the dining room.

Then she cleared her throat.

"Muskan..."

I knew that tone.

"Haa?"

"Muje kuch baat karni he."

I looked up.

"Shadi ke bare me na, muje nahi karni he?"

She gave me an embarrassed smile.

"You already know."

"I always know."

She folded her hands on the table.

"Your father and I aren't forcing you."

"I know."

"We've never asked you to quit your profession."

"I know."

"We've never complained about your long hours."

"I know that too."

She hesitated before continuing.

"But beta... you're thirty-one now."

I remained silent.

"A family friend told us about someone."

I looked back at my plate.

"He is thirty-four. A cardiologist. His name is Dr. Ashutosh Singh."

I didn't respond.

"He's well educated, respectful, and understands the life of a doctor. His parents are very kind."

"Maa..."

"Sunn le pehale."

She reached across the table and held my hand.

"Hum kal he shadi karne ko thodi bol rahe he."

"Muje nahi karni he kisi se shadi."

"Mili bhi nahi he tu aabhi."

"Meeting him won't change anything."

"Kese pata tuje?"

"Because me janti hu khud ko."

She sighed softly.

"Yak baar baat to karle ."

I looked into her eyes.

"What if I don't feel anything?"

"That's alright."

"What if I still say no?"

"Then we'll say no."

"What if I don't want to meet anyone at all?"

She smiled sadly.

"Then tell me why."

The question settled heavily between us.

If only it were that easy.

How could I tell her that my heart belonged to someone who had never asked for it?

How could I explain a love story that never actually began?

I lowered my gaze.

"Me...taiyaar nahi hu maa."

She gently squeezed my hand.

"Koi aur he kya?"

For one terrifying second, I thought my face had betrayed me.

I forced myself to remain calm.

"Nahi."

She studied me carefully, as mothers do.

"I won't ask again tonight."

Relief washed over me.

"But promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Meet him once."

"Maa..."

"No pressure. No engagement. No commitment."

She smiled.

"Just one conversation. Two doctors getting to know each other."

I let out a long breath.

"And if I still don't want this?"

"I'll stand beside you."

I looked at her with moist eyes.

"You mean that?"

"Always."

Silence filled the room again.

She stood and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Me bass Teri Khushi chahti hu, Muskan."

After she left the dining room, I stayed there alone.

I unlocked my phone.

There, buried deep in an old chat, was Raghav's last message from years ago.

"Congratulations, Dr. Patel. I always knew you'd become an excellent doctor."

I stared at those words for a long time before locking the screen again.

Tomorrow I would save another life.

Tomorrow, everyone would call me brave.

Tomorrow no one would know that the hardest surgery I had never managed to perform was removing one name from my own heart.

Finally, she moved upstairs to my room, changed into comfortable clothes, made myself a cup of coffee, and sat by the balcony. The city lights shimmered below, but her mind was still occupied by the conversation she had with her mother.

Just then, her phone rang.

Yashasvi💕 Calling...

A small smile appeared on Muskan's face.

"Hello."

"I knew you'd answer with that tired doctor voice," Yashasvi laughed. "Long surgery?"

"Haa yaar, Nine hours."

"Brain tumor?"

"Hmm."

"And did Dr. Muskan Patel save another life today?"

"We did."

"I'm proud of you."

Muskan leaned back in her chair.

"Thanks."

There was a brief silence.

Yashasvi knew her too well.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've known you since we were fifteen. That wasn't your normal 'thanks.' Now tell me."

Muskan sighed.

"Mumma found another prospective groom."

"Ah."

"He is a cardiologist."

"Oh! A doctor this time. Your parents are upgrading."

Muskan couldn't help but laugh.

"You are impossible."

"I try."

"They want me to meet him."

"And?"

"I don't want to."

"Because you don't want marriage..."

Yashasvi paused.

"...or because of Raghav?"

Muskan closed her eyes.

"You already know the answer."

"I wanted to hear you say it."

"Me aab bhi pyaar karti hu yaar usse."

The words escaped quietly, almost like a confession she had made a thousand times only to herself.

Yashasvi's voice softened.

"It's been fourteen years, Muskan."

"I know."

"Does he know?"

"No."

"Has he ever given you any reason to believe he feels the same way?"

Muskan looked at the night sky.

"No."

"Then why are you punishing yourself?"

"I'm not punishing myself."

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"You've rejected every proposal."

"I wasn't interested."

"You've buried yourself in work."

"I love my work."

"You avoid weddings."

"They're noisy."

"You never let anyone get close."

"I don't have time."

Yashasvi chuckled.

"You always have an answer."

Muskan smiled faintly.

"It's easier than admitting the truth."

"And the truth is?"

"Nobody feels right because... somewhere, my heart is still waiting for someone who isn't coming back."

Silence settled between them.

Finally, Yashasvi spoke.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"If Raghav called you today and said, 'Muskan, I love you,' what would you do?"

Muskan didn't even need to think.

"I'd say yes."

"And if he called tomorrow and told you he was getting married?"

Muskan swallowed hard.

"I'd congratulate him."

"And then?"

"I'd probably cry."

"Exactly."

Yashasvi sighed.

"You're living your life based on possibilities that don't exist."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"Because loving him never felt wrong."

"No."

"It just never became ours."

Yashasvi's voice became gentle.

"You know what I admire most about you?"

"What?"

"You hold people's brains in your hands every day. You make impossible decisions under pressure. Families trust you with the lives of the people they love."

Muskan listened quietly.

"But when it comes to your own heart..."

"I become a coward."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking you've forgotten that your heart deserves treatment too."

Muskan smiled sadly.

"Trust a psychologist to say something like that."

"I may not be a doctor like you, but I've spent years listening to people carry invisible pain."

"I don't feel broken."

"I know."

"You don't need fixing."

"I know."

"But you deserve the chance to be happy."

Muskan stared at her untouched coffee.

"What if I never love anyone the way I loved Raghav?"

Yashasvi answered without hesitation.

"Then don't compare."

"What do you mean?"

"Your first love doesn't have to become the standard by which every future relationship is measured."

Muskan remained silent.

"I'm not asking you to marry this cardiologist."

"I'm glad."

"I'm asking you to meet him as Muskan."

"Not as a daughter fulfilling her parents' wishes?"

"No."

"Not as someone trying to replace Raghav?"

"Definitely not."

"Then as who?"

"As a woman who deserves the chance to know whether life still surprises has left."

Muskan smiled.

"You always know what to say."

"Occupational hazard."

They both laughed.

After a moment, Yashasvi added mischievously,

"Besides..."

"What now?"

"If he's rude, arrogant, or starts explaining medicine to one of the best neurosurgeons in the city..."

Muskan raised an eyebrow.

"...I'll personally reject him on your behalf."

Muskan laughed louder than she had in weeks.

"I'd like to see that. Beside if not me I will see him in behave of you because I had promised you to find a perfect handsome doctor with curly hairs."

"Shut up yaar that was long back."

"Why not I would love being third wheel between you and your partner."

"For what?"

"For being the greatest of all time friend so that you can remember me."

"Muskan."

"Yashasvi."

"Aacha sorry maaf kar de?"

"You always do that whenever I think today, I will tease you, you always do uno reverse."

"Yes."

"I'm not talking to you."

"I know."

"Keep this aside you know no matter what happens—whether you meet this doctor, stay single, or one day finally tell Raghav the truth—I'll be standing beside you."

Muskan felt tears gather in her eyes.

"You always have."

"Always will."

After ending the call, Muskan looked out at the city once more.

For the first time in a long while, the weight on her heart felt just a little lighter—not because she had found the answers, but because she had someone who never stopped reminding her that she didn't have to carry the questions alone.

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