Chapter 5: The Man Who Waited

October 9th.

Paris.

The Eiffel Tower glimmered behind the glass of the five-star suite, but Kabir didn’t see it. His phone buzzed with reminders — Flight to Cape Town: 10:45 AM. Photojournal Assignment: Confirm with Editors. But he ignored them all.

He was supposed to be on a plane tomorrow. But tomorrow was also October 10th.

And there was only one place he wanted to be.

Room 407.

---

October 10th.

9:13 PM.

Kabir sat in the room, fingers wrapped tightly around a cup of black coffee gone cold. He had arrived early. He always did.

He had told his agency he was sick. Lied to his editor. Given up one of the biggest assignments of his year.

For her.

For Mira.

But now, an hour had passed and the room was still quiet. No knock. No heels clicking across the polished corridor. No rustle of her black coat as she walked in pretending not to care.

He looked at his watch.

9:15.

Still nothing.

His mind spun with reasons — traffic, work emergency, cold feet. But something inside him twisted.

Because last night, he’d made a decision.

---

He was going to tell her.

After six years of pretending that this room was just fantasy. After six years of packing up pieces of his heart every October 11th. After a kiss that stayed with him for 364 days.

He was going to break the rules.

He would tell her that he waited for her all year. That in every city, in every crowded airport, in every lonely hotel bed — he saw her.

He would ask her what she was afraid of.

He would ask her to try.

Maybe not love. But something. A beginning.

But the clock kept ticking.

10:05 PM.

Still no Mira.

---

Kabir stood at the window, staring down at the city lights below. A quiet ache had begun to settle in his chest.

Was he a fool?

Had he mistaken a shared ritual for something deeper?

Was last year’s tenderness just a slip — a moment of weakness on her part?

Maybe she’d moved on.

Maybe he’d read it all wrong.

He sank into the armchair by the bed, covering his face with his hands.

---

The knock came at 10:37 PM.

He leapt up.

The door creaked open slowly.

And there she was.

Mira.

Her hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside, her eyes shadowed with something unreadable. She stepped in silently, pulling off her coat, revealing the simple maroon dress beneath — not glamorous, not dramatic, just her.

Just Mira.

Kabir didn’t rush to her. He didn’t ask why she was late.

She didn’t explain.

The silence felt heavier than usual.

Finally, she spoke. “You waited.”

“I always do,” Kabir said quietly.

She didn’t meet his eyes.

---

They didn’t order dinner that night. There were no long conversations or playful banter. Just shared stillness, and glances that said more than words could.

Kabir watched her closely.

She was here… but distant.

She lay on the bed, facing away from him. Her breathing steady, almost too steady — like someone pretending to sleep.

He didn’t lie beside her.

He sat on the edge of the chair, trying to gather courage.

And then… he spoke.

“I gave up Cape Town,” he said. “A three-week project. Beaches. Wildlife. National Geographic.”

Mira didn’t respond.

“I told them I had something more important.”

Still nothing.

“I wanted to tell you something, Mira,” Kabir said softly, “last year changed everything. The way you looked at me… the way we—”

He paused.

“You said you don’t believe in love. But I do. And I think I might—”

But she cut him off.

“Don’t.” Her voice was sharp, brittle.

He froze.

She sat up now, her eyes glassy. “Don’t say it. Don’t break the rules.”

Kabir blinked, confused. “What rules, Mira? We made them up because we were scared.”

“They protected us,” she whispered.

“No, they caged us,” he said, standing up. “We hide in this room for one night a year and then pretend it never happened. But it did happen. It’s happening. We can’t pretend anymore.”

Mira looked away.

“You told me about your parents, about the lies, the betrayal. But I’m not your father, Mira. I’m not going to run.”

“That’s not the point,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You don’t get to decide that. I’ve built my life carefully. I can’t let it fall apart because of… feelings.”

Kabir took a step forward. “So, you do feel something.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she picked up her coat. Her movements were fast now, like she couldn’t breathe in the room anymore.

Kabir watched helplessly. “You’re leaving?”

Mira didn’t meet his eyes.

As she reached the door, she turned back for just a second.

“I told you,” she said. “Don’t ruin it. Don’t break the rules.”

And with that, she was gone.

---

The door clicked shut.

Kabir stood frozen, staring at the empty space she’d left behind. Then, he noticed something on the pillow.

A small note.