Pages She Left Unread

Sammy never planned to meet Pramikhe. It was supposed to be just another day of skipping college to meet his friend. But fate doesn’t ask for permission.

That day, as he waited outside his friend’s college, he saw her for the first time. She wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—just standing by the corridor, talking. Yet, something about her felt different.

"Who’s that?" Sammy nudged his friend.

His friend barely glanced. "Pramikhe. First-year. Not from here, different college."

Something about her name settled in his mind like an unfinished song. He didn’t know why. Not yet.

Later that night, he couldn’t shake the thought of her. He asked his friends to find out more. They did.

She wasn’t popular, not the kind to seek attention. But people noticed her. And sometimes, not in a good way.

One afternoon, Sammy found himself outside her college again. He had no reason to be there. Or maybe he did.

That’s when he saw them—a group of guys standing too close, laughing, making comments she ignored.

Sammy clenched his fists.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them sneered as he stepped forward.

"Someone you don’t want as an enemy," Sammy replied.

The first punch landed before the guy even realized what was happening. The second sent another crashing to the ground. Within minutes, ten guys were down. Sammy stood over them, breathing hard.

His friends pulled him away. "She’s not even yours, bro," one of them muttered.

That was the problem.

She wasn’t. But he wished she was.

They started talking—not in person, only through messages. She never asked to meet. He never pushed. It was enough.

Or so he thought.

Days turned into months. Sammy skipped his own college just to be near hers, to catch a glimpse of her. She never knew.

One evening, he came across a post on her social media. A short caption.

"Closest Guy "

His heart sank.

It wasn’t about him.

It was about her best friend.

For the first time, he hesitated before replying to her texts. The pain of knowing he wasn’t the one weighed him down.

"You’re really close with him, huh?" Sammy typed.

"Yeah, he’s been with me through everything," she replied instantly.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to ask, *And what about me? Do I mean anything to you?*

Instead, he typed, "That’s nice."

For the first time, talking to her hurt.

He started pulling away. She didn’t chase. Maybe that was his answer.

Days passed. Weeks.

Her friends noticed his absence before she did. One of them, a girl he barely knew, confessed to him.

"I like you, Sammy," she said. "You know that, right?"

He shook his head. "I can’t."

"Why?"

He had no answer. How could he explain that his heart already belonged to someone who never even looked his way?

He refused every proposal, every chance at something new. Because no one else was her.

And then, one day, he made a decision.

He went back.

To her college. To her lab. To her world.

She was there. Standing by her bus, lost in thought. He stood at the door, waiting, hoping.

She looked right through him.

And walked away.

As if Sammy was never there.

As if he never existed.

At that moment, he realized—some love stories aren’t incomplete because they weren’t enough.

They’re incomplete because they were never seen.

Pramikhe never saw Sammy’s love for her.

She never turned the page.

She left it unread.