As if to confirm what she had just heard, Luna looked at Nikhil's mother again and asked, her voice barely a whisper, "He... he really isn't here anymore?"
His mother, already in tears, broke down completely. Her hands trembled as she covered her face, trying to contain the sobs that escaped her chest. The grief in her eyes was unmistakable—raw and real. Luna and Anya sat frozen, overwhelmed by the sudden weight of reality. They wanted to comfort her, but words felt useless.
They reached out gently—offering tissues, a hand on her shoulder—small gestures in the face of something so heavy.
For Anya, the pain was distant. She had never met Nikhil, after all. But for Luna, it felt like something inside her had cracked open. It was as if someone had poured ice-cold water over her soul. She didn't cry, didn't speak much. She simply sat still, eyes wide, quietly imploding.
Was it real?
Was he really there that day?
Or had she imagined everything?
The person she talked to, laughed with, the one who helped her through so much—was that Nikhil? Or someone who just looked like him? A ghost, a memory, a figment of her tired, desperate mind?
Her thoughts spiraled.
After some time, once Nikhil's mother had calmed down a little, Luna and Anya decided it was time to leave. Luna stood up slowly, her heart heavy.
"Auntie..." she said gently, "Thank you for letting us come... and for talking to us. I'm really... really sorry if we brought up painful memories."
Nikhil's mother gave a weak nod, wiping her tears. "It's alright. Thank you… for remembering him."
With one last glance at the woman who had just unknowingly broken her heart, Luna stepped outside with Anya.
The drive back was quiet.
As they moved through the now-dark roads, Anya finally spoke. "Are you okay?"
Luna nodded slowly. "I'm okay," she said. But Anya, being her closest friend, didn't press. She knew Luna was far from okay. She just needed space. So she let her have it.