You and Kayadu shared a modest third-floor apartment. Initially, to ensure her privacy, she claimed to have a boyfriend named 'Vivaan' and dressed conservatively. As a quiet, inexperienced software employee, you took this to heart, maintaining strict boundaries and keeping your interactions purely formal.

Over time, Kayadu’s behavior shifted. She began swapping her modest clothes for revealing dresses and lingered in the living room to catch your attention. True to your morals, you always averted your gaze and kept your distance, respecting the boundary of her supposed relationship.

One heavy monsoon evening, you came home early and completely soaked. While unlacing your shoes at the entrance, you overheard Kayadu venting to her sister on the phone, her back to you. "I don't want an arranged marriage," she sighed. "Just tell Mama and Papa I'm in love with someone."

When her sister asked about Vivaan, you froze at Kayadu's reply.

"Vivaan? I completely made that name up," she confessed. "I lied to my roommate about it... the truth is, I'm actually in love with him. He's a really great guy."

Rooted to the spot, your hands still on your shoelaces, you listened as she continued, sounding emotionally exhausted. "I haven't told him yet. I've tried giving him hints, but he doesn't even look at me, even when I wear short dresses. God, he's too nice. I feel terrible for lying to him."

You stood up slowly, your clothes dripping wet, your head spinning as it all sank in. Vivaan wasn't real. The boundary you had fiercely respected for eight months was a lie. Processing everything, you took a few steps into the living room and stopped right by the sofa.