Edinburgh - Day 7. 6:42 AM.*
Isha's phone alarm went off. Not a Bollywood song. Not the ringtone she'd assigned to Vikram two years ago and never changed.
Just a generic _beep beep beep_.
She turned it off and lay there for a minute. Counting.
Day 1: She woke up and checked her phone for his name. It wasn't there.
Day 2: She woke up and _didn't_ check.
Day 7: She woke up and thought about coffee.
Not him. Coffee.
She sat up. The bruise in her chest was still there. But it was a Week 1 bruise now, not a Day 1 hemorrhage.
*7:15 AM. The kitchen in Mylnes Court.*
Karan was already there.
He had been there every morning since Day 2. Not because they planned it. Not because he was _waiting_ for her like some tragic hero.
Just because PhD students are nocturnal creatures who run on caffeine and bad decisions, and undergrads with 9 AM lectures are collateral damage.
*"You're late,"* he said, without looking up from his laptop. He was typing something that looked important and probably wasn't. *"Day 7 and you're already slipping. Tsk tsk."*
Isha rolled her eyes. That was new. A week ago, she didn't have the energy to roll her eyes. *"It's 7:15. The library doesn't even open till 8."*
*"Excuses,"* Karan said, and slid a mug across the counter. *"Latte. Extra shot. Because you looked like death yesterday after Dr. MacLeod's seminar on Victorian poetry."*
She took it. *"It was three hours. About dead people. Written by dead people. For dead people."*
*"And yet,"* Karan said, finally looking up, *"you took seven pages of notes. Nerd."*
He said _nerd_ like it was a compliment.
Vikram used to say _nerd_ like it was something he had to tolerate. _My Isha is such a nerd, but she's cute so it's okay._
Karan said it like _nerd_ was the point.
*"You're one to talk,"* Isha shot back, nodding at his screen. *"What are you even writing? 'The Geopolitical Implications of Haggis: A Thesis'?"*
Karan gasped, clutching his chest. *"I'll have you know haggis is a very serious diplomatic issue. Scotland will go to war for it."*
*"Scotland will go to war for anything,"* Aisha—the Nigerian girl from Day 1—said, walking in with her own mug. *"Good morning, Day 7 and Day 732."*
That was what they were now. Not Isha and Karan.
_Day 7 and Day 732._
Like they were coordinates on the same map.
*11:00 AM. The Library. Their Table.*
It had become _their_ table. Third floor. By the window that looked out onto the old cemetery. Morbid, yes. But quiet. And the light was good.
Isha was reading _Wuthering Heights_ for class. Again. She'd read it in Delhi. With Vikram. They'd fought about it.
_Heathcliff is romantic,_ she'd said.
_Heathcliff is a psychopath,_ he'd said. _Cathy deserved better._
_But he loved her,_ Isha had argued. _Isn't that enough?_
_Love isn't enough if it destroys you,_ Vikram had said.
She'd been so angry at him for not understanding.
Now she was reading it in Edinburgh, with Karan two seats down muttering at his laptop about "post-colonial trade routes", and she thought: _Cathy deserved better._
*"You're making your 'I'm having a revelation' face,"* Karan said without looking up.
*"I don't have a face,"* Isha said automatically.
*"You do. It's the one where you frown and your nose scrunches and you forget I'm here."* He finally looked up. *"What's the revelation?"*
Isha hesitated. Day 7 Rule: You don't have to tell Karan everything. But you _can_. And he won't use it against you later.
*"That I used to think love was enough,"* she said. *"Even if it hurt. Even if it... destroyed you. I thought if you loved someone enough, the pain was worth it."*
Karan closed his laptop. Gave her his full attention. That was another thing. He didn't do half-listening.
*"And now?"* he asked.
*"Now I think..."* Isha looked down at Heathcliff and Cathy, dying on the moors for each other. *"Now I think maybe love isn't supposed to hurt like that. Maybe if it's destroying you, it's not love. It's just... damage. With a prettier name."*
Karan was quiet for a minute. Then he said, *"Day 7, Isha. And you're already smarter than I was on Day 200."*
*"What did you think on Day 200?"*
*"That if I just explained myself better, she'd come back. That if I wrote a good enough email, she'd understand why I needed to do my PhD. That love meant convincing someone to stay."* He shrugged. *"Took me till Day 400 to realize love is someone choosing to stay without the essay."*
He opened his laptop again. *"Anyway. Your revelation is noted and will be used in the thesis of your life. Now get back to work, nerd."*
Isha went back to _Wuthering Heights_.
But she was smiling.
*4:30 PM. Princes Street. "Scaf Shopping".*
*"You need a scarf,"* Karan announced, like it was a medical diagnosis. *"Day 7. You're officially an Edinburgh resident. It's law. No scarf, no citizenship."*
*"I have dupattas,"* Isha protested, following him into a shop that smelled like wool and rain.
*"Dupattas are for Delhi wind. This is Scottish wind. This wind has opinions. It will personally insult your neck if it's exposed."*
He picked up a massive grey thing that looked like it could double as a blanket. *"This one. It's called a 'kilt scarf' I think. Or maybe I made that up."*
Isha touched it. It was stupidly soft. *"It's 40 pounds, Karan."*
*"And your neck is priceless,"* he said, already walking to the counter. *"I'm buying it. Call it a Day 7 tax."*
*"I can't let you—"*
*"You can,"* he interrupted, handing his card to the cashier. *"Because when you're on Day 732 and some new Day 2 kid shows up looking like they're gonna cry into their latte, you're gonna buy _them_ a scarf. That's the rule. Pass it on."*
The cashier, an old Scottish woman, beamed at them. *"He's a good lad, this one. Brought half the international students in here for their 'Day 7 scarves'."*
Isha stared at Karan. *"You do this for everyone?"*
*"No,"* Karan said, taking the bag. *"Just the ones who look like they forgot how to be warm."*
He wrapped the scarf around her neck right there in the shop. His fingers were careful. Not lingering. Not intimate. Just... practical. Like he was fixing her collar.
*"There,"* he said. *"Now the wind can't hurt you. And if it tries, I'll fight it."*
It was such a stupid thing to say.
Isha's eyes filled up anyway.
Not for Vikram. Not for the past.
For a boy from Chandigarh who bought scarves for strangers so they wouldn't be cold.
*"Don't,"* Karan said softly, seeing her face. *"Day 7 Rule: No crying in wool shops. It makes the sheep sad."*
Isha laughed. Wet. Broken. Real. *"You're an idiot."*
*"I'm your idiot,"* he said, and then froze like he hadn't meant to say it like that. *"I mean. Your friend. Your idiot friend. Who buys you scarves. Shut up."*
Isha just tightened the scarf around her neck. It smelled like new wool and like Karan's laundry detergent. Clean. Safe.
*"Thank you,"* she said.
*"Don't thank me,"* Karan said, holding the shop door open for her. *"Thank me on Day 732 when you do it for someone else."*
*9:00 PM. Mylnes Court. Isha's Room.*
Her phone buzzed. Not a call. A text.
*Karan:* _Did you survive the wind? Or do I need to come fight it? Also, Aisha says we're watching Pride and Prejudice tomorrow night. The 2005 one. With Kiera Knightley. Attendance mandatory. Bring your new scarf._
Isha looked at the text. Then at the scarf, folded neatly on her chair. Then at her diary on the desk.
She opened it.
_Day 7. Edinburgh._
_Karan bought me a scarf. Said the wind has opinions._
_He says I'm a nerd like it's a good thing._
_We have a table in the library now. Mine and his._
_I didn't think about Vikram for six hours today. Six whole hours._
_Not because I forgot him._
_But because I was busy learning that haggis is a diplomatic issue and that Heathcliff was not romantic, he was just... damaged._
_Karan says Day 3 hurts less. He was right._
_Day 7 doesn't hurt. It just... aches. Like a muscle you used too much._
_But muscles heal stronger._
_I think I'm healing stronger._
_I have a friend. His name is Karan. He's on Day 732._
_He doesn't try to fix me._
_He just buys me coffee and waits._
_And somehow, that's enough._
She closed the diary.
She put her phone down without checking for any other names.
And for the first time since the plane landed, Isha Sharma went to sleep and didn't dream about a boy who forgot her.
She dreamed about scarves. And libraries. And a boy who knew how to wait.
*[Author Note]*
*This isn't love. This is friendship. And sometimes friendship is the thing that saves you when love breaks you.*
*Karan is Day 732. He's been where Isha is. He's not trying to date her. He's trying to make sure she doesn't drown.*
*Notice: She didn't think about Vikram for 6 hours. That's huge. That's healing. That's Day 7.*
*800 comments = Ch-29 "Day 14: The Phone Call She Didn't Make" tomorrow 9 AM.*
*Question: Who was your "Karan"? The friend who showed up when your heart was broken and just... stayed? Tag them. Thank them.*
*Vote. Review. Add to library. Isha's making friends. Let's make sure she knows she's not alone* ✈️🧣💗