Better Late Than Never ~Srimoyee Dutta The memory of our farewell party lingered like a bittersweet melody, a silent echo of unspoken goodbyes. I yearned to etch his image permanently in my mind, a tangible reminder of stolen glances and whispered conversations. Yet, courage fled me at the crucial moment, leaving me with a hollow ache and a photograph uncaptured. The following days were a haunting montage of stolen moments replaying on a loop in my mind: the shy brush of shoulders in the hallway, the electric spark when our fingertips grazed as we exchanged papers, the way his gaze seemed to linger just a beat too long. These seemingly insignificant interactions sent fluttering butterflies through my stomach, leaving me inexplicably sad whenever he wasn't around. Was I the only one who noticed these subtle nuances? Did his heart skip a beat as well, or was it simply wishful thinking - fueled by a yearning I couldn't articulate? The stolen glances, if there were any, offered