She was a girl of tradition, rooted deep in her faith and values. A Hindu girl from India, a devotee of Krishna and Shiva, carrying the old-world charm in a Gen Z body. A paradox - talkative yet silent, lazy yet full of life, someone who never truly fit into the modern world around her. Books were her escape, devotion her strength.

And then there was him. A Muslim boy from the same land yet a world apart. Born in the '90s but blending effortlessly with this fast-paced generation. A firm believer in Allah, yet he lived life on his own terms. He was lazy, carefree, and unbothered by the weight of traditions she carried on her fragile shoulders.

Their paths should have never crossed. Yet, fate - cruel and mischievous - brought them together in the vast digital world. A random encounter, a few exchanged words, and suddenly, there was something. Or at least, she believed there was.

She let him in - first into her conversations, then into her thoughts, and finally into the guarded corners of her heart. She shared her world with him - her fears, her dreams, her prayers. Telegram, Instagram, WhatsApp - each platform became a thread tying them closer.

But he never spoke of love. Not once.

Piece by piece, his truth unfolded. He had been with many - physically, intimately. Casual flings, friends with benefits, moments of passion without attachment. He had lived a life she could never imagine for herself. And yet, he wanted her.

Not as a love, not as a forever, but as a fleeting warmth in the cold stretch of time before his "real" life began.

*"Be with me,"* he said, *"until I get married."*

Not a promise, not a future. Just a convenience. A temporary presence in his life while he waited for someone he deemed "suitable."

And then came the cruelest words of all.

*"If you were Muslim, I would have married you."*

A cold, calculated sentence. No longing. No regret. Just a condition she could never meet.

It hit her harder than she expected. Not because she wanted to convert, not because she wanted him at the cost of her own soul - but because it made her realize she had been nothing more than a passing moment to him, while he had become something so deep within her heart.

She had two choices - stay and let herself be used, or walk away with her dignity.

She sat there, staring at the phone screen, his last message still glowing back at her.

"What do you say?" he had asked.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

One word could change everything.

One word could destroy her.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

And then -

She made her choice.

But what did she choose?