Off The Field

The stadium was filled with the roar of the crowd as the game progressed, the atmosphere thick with excitement. The India team was in the final stretch of a crucial match, and the energy in the stands was palpable. Virika stood in the VIP section, her eyes focused on the field, but her thoughts were far from the game. The players were just a blur of movement, their athleticism on full display as they battled it out under the harsh lights.

But it wasn’t the game that held her attention. It was him.

Shubman.

He was at the crease, bat in hand, poised and ready. He was playing with a confidence that Virika hadn’t seen in months. She had been following his progress ever since he made his comeback. The headlines, the interviews, the stories—each one brought her a strange sense of pride. He was back to his best. But it wasn’t just the game that had captured her heart. It was the way he carried himself, the quiet strength in his eyes, the resilience in his every move. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him until she saw him like this.

A part of her still couldn’t believe how things had unraveled. The last few months had been a whirlwind of emotions—heartbreak, distance, confusion. After everything that had happened, she thought she could shut her heart off to him, thought she could move on and focus solely on her work. But the truth was, no matter how many times she told herself to let go, a piece of her heart still clung to him.

She had been doing better—no longer drowning in the suffocating weight of her feelings—but she wasn’t whole. Not really. There was an emptiness in her chest that hadn’t gone away. She had filled the void with her clinic, with her patients, with the busy schedule she had created for herself. But it wasn’t the same. The laughter, the warmth, the moments of pure joy she used to share with him—they were all gone, replaced by silence and the occasional, fleeting memory.

Watching him now, doing what he did best, she could feel the walls she had carefully built around her heart beginning to crack. The moment their eyes met across the field, everything seemed to freeze. It was a fleeting moment, a quick glance, but it was enough. Enough to make her heart beat faster, enough to remind her of everything they had shared. The laughter, the stolen kisses, the late-night conversations that had once made everything feel so right.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it should have, and it was clear he was searching for something in her eyes—something he needed to see. But the walls she had built were still there, and she quickly looked away, her fingers tightening around the railing in front of her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, not again. Not after everything.

She had been so angry with him when they parted ways. She had been angry with herself too, for allowing herself to fall for someone she couldn’t have, for believing in a future that was never meant to be. But now, watching him, all of that anger seemed so distant, so unnecessary. The truth was, she still loved him. She had never stopped loving him, not really. And it terrified her.

Virika shifted her focus back to the game, though her mind wasn’t entirely on it. She had been trying so hard to move forward, to build something for herself, to be independent. And yet, every time she saw him, that yearning, that longing for him resurfaced. She wanted to rush down to the field, to reach out to him, to tell him that she was still here, that she hadn’t given up on them. But the hurt, the betrayal—it was still there. It was still too raw, too fresh.

The game progressed, and Shubman played with an intensity that was almost palpable. He was determined, focused, each shot coming with an assuredness that made the crowd go wild. But for Virika, it was as if the noise faded away. All she could hear was the rhythm of his bat hitting the ball, and with each strike, a part of her heart ached. She knew he had changed, that he was a different man than the one she had known. But in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but hope—hope that the man she had fallen in love with was still in there, somewhere.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a notification from her clinic. It was a reminder about a meeting with a new client she had been preparing for all week. But the reminder felt insignificant now. The meeting would have to wait. She tried to push aside the thoughts that swirled in her mind, tried to focus on the task at hand, but the truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at her earlier. The way he used to make her feel like she was the only one who mattered.

As the match came to a close, the players gathered around, celebrating their victory. Shubman’s teammates clapped him on the back, lifting him up in celebration. Virika watched from a distance, her heart heavy, her emotions conflicted. She had wanted to be part of that, to share in that joy, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. She couldn’t just walk back into his life and pretend everything was okay. Not when the past still hung between them like an invisible barrier.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from her brother, Virat. “Are you watching the match? Shubman’s on fire today. I think he’s finally back to his best.”

Virika stared at the message for a long moment, the words sinking into her chest. She smiled softly, but it was bittersweet. Virat had always been proud of Shubman, always admired his talent. And now, watching him succeed again, it seemed like everything had come full circle. But for her, it was still incomplete. She had lost something in the process. And though Shubman had found his form, she wasn’t sure if she could ever find hers again.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting the noise of the crowd wash over her, trying to drown out the ache in her chest. The love she had for Shubman was still there, a constant undercurrent in her life, and it was slowly creeping back to the surface.

For a long time, she had convinced herself that she didn’t need him, that she could move on without him. But standing here now, watching him play, watching the man he had become, she realized just how much she had been lying to herself.

As the stadium emptied, Virika stayed for a few more moments, lingering in the quiet aftermath of the game. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, but she couldn’t leave yet. The tension between them—between what they had been and what they were now—still hung in the air.

Finally, she turned and made her way out of the stands, her heart heavy, but her mind clearer than it had been in months. The walls she had built were beginning to crumble, and the first cracks in her resolve were finally starting to show. She wasn’t sure what the future held, or if she could trust herself with Shubman again. But in that moment, she knew one thing for sure: she still loved him.

And maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.