Waiting For You Episode 4: The Connection

The doors of the bus hissed open, and for the first time, Shaam and Suhani boarded side by side. 

No hurried goodbyes, no split directions—just two people, choosing to sit together.

They found a seat near the window. The sun filtered in through the dusty glass, painting golden stripes on Suhani’s face as she leaned back, coffee cup in hand, still slightly steaming.

“So,” Shaam said, turning to her with a half-grin, “how long do I have before you pull out a book and ignore me again?”

Suhani laughed, resting her chin in her hand. “I think I’ll make an exception today. No books. Just conversation.”

“Wow,” he said mock-dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “Truly honored.”

The bus rumbled to life, swaying gently as it pulled away from the curb. For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

They simply watched the city roll past: streets waking up, sleepy vendors setting up stalls, morning joggers lost in rhythm. 

But the silence was no longer empty. It was full—with understanding, with comfort, with a connection that didn’t need to be rushed.

“I’m glad you didn’t call,” Suhani said softly, breaking the quiet.

Shaam looked at her, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I liked that you waited.” She turned to meet his eyes. “You gave the story a chance to write itself.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t sure if I was being poetic or just stubborn.”

“Maybe both,” she said, nudging him playfully. “But it worked.”

Their hands rested on the seat between them—close, almost touching. 

Shaam looked down for a second, then slowly reached out, brushing his fingers against hers. 

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers with his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Outside, the city kept moving, oblivious. Inside that moving bus, though, time seemed to slow.

Suhani leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. “You know,” she said with a sleepy smile, “this stop might’ve been the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Shaam looked out the window, the scenery now glowing a little warmer. “Same here,” he whispered. “I was just waiting for you.”

And in that moment, the story that began with a missed bus, a lost bookmark, and a chance encounter found its rhythm—two people, one connection, and a love story born not in a grand gesture, but in the quiet magic of everyday moments.

The bus drove on, but for Shaam and Suhani, they’d already arrived exactly where they needed to be.