Nysa's POV

Who is he?” I asked quietly, pretending to focus on the coffee cup between my hands.

We were back from the hospital. Back to our hostel, to assignments and lectures and the smell of formalin — but my mind hadn’t returned with me.

It was still there, near the corridor where I last saw him.

My friend looked up from her notes. “Who?”

“That guy… from the emergency wing today. The one in the pale blue shirt and white coat. I asked him about the department. Andhe helped me.”

She stared at me for a second. Then her expression shifted — from curious to concerned.

“Oh no,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on him.”

I stayed silent. That was enough of an answer.

She sighed. “That’s Apurv Sharma. Third-year MBBS. He’s got a girlfriend — she’s his batchmate. Super smart. Pretty too. Everyone knows about them.”

My chest felt like it had skipped a beat.

“She’s… in the same college?”

“Yeah. They’ve been together for a while. He doesn’t hide it either. You’ll see them together around campus sometimes — holding hands, sitting in the canteen, that sort of thing.”

I swallowed hard. “Oh.”

My friend gave me a look. A soft warning in her eyes. “Look, Naysa. I’m going to be honest. He’s not the guy you think he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not loyal. He flirts. Even when she’s around. Laughs with girls, compliments them, adds them on Instagram, slides into DMs. And the worst part? He does it so smoothly that most girls still fall for him.”

My heart didn’t want to believe it.

But my gut already knew she was telling the truth.

“He doesn’t even hide it,” she continued. “And his girlfriend? She knows. She just… lets it go. Maybe she’s used to it. Maybe she’s hoping he’ll grow out of it. Or maybe she’s too in love to walk away.”

I stared down at my coffee, which had gone cold.

“And girls like me?” I whispered.

“You?” She softened her voice. “You’d be one of those he talks to sweetly for two days and forgets on the third. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in distraction.”

My chest ached.

But the pain wasn’t enough to make me let go.

Because somewhere inside me, even after everything she said —

even knowing he belonged to someone else —

even knowing he played with hearts like they were nothing but chess pieces —

I still wanted to matter to him.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if it would hurt.

Even if my name would be just a passing thought in a heart that never had room for mine.