The rain had almost stopped.
Only a few drops were still falling from the edge of the bus stop roof. The sky was slowly clearing, but something heavy remained in the air between Maya and Arjun.
Maya closed her notebook slowly.
"I wrote that line two years ago," she said.
Arjun looked at her, his smile fading just a little.
"Two years?" he repeated.
Maya nodded.
"Yes. But… I don't remember why I wrote it."
There was silence.
Not an awkward silence—but one filled with questions.
Arjun stepped a little closer.
"Maybe it wasn't just imagination," he said softly.
Maya frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Arjun didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked out at the wet road, as if searching for something in the past.
"Have you ever felt like you forgot something important?" he asked.
Maya froze.
That question hit her deeper than she expected.
"…Yes," she whispered.
For years, Maya had felt it.
A missing piece in her memory.
A feeling that something—or someone—was gone, but she couldn't remember who.
Arjun turned back to her.
"I think we've met before," he said.
Maya's heart skipped a beat.
"That's impossible," she said quickly. "I would remember."
Arjun shook his head gently.
"Not if something made you forget."
The wind blew softly, carrying the smell of wet earth.
Maya felt nervous now.
"Why are you saying this?" she asked.
Arjun hesitated.
Then he said something that made her world stop.
"Two years ago… on a rainy day like this… I met a girl."
Maya's fingers tightened around her notebook.
"She was standing under a bus stop," Arjun continued.
"She was holding a notebook."
Maya's breathing became slow and heavy.
"And she told me," Arjun said quietly,
"that she wanted to write a story about a boy who loved the rain."
Maya's eyes widened.
Because she remembered writing that.
But she didn't remember telling anyone.
"Was that… you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Arjun looked into her eyes.
"Yes," he said.
"And you forgot me."