"Let Her Go" - Passenger

🎧 "Only know you love her when you let her go..."

Early Morning

I woke up before my alarm.

4:50 AM.

I didn't even need to check the time-my body knew it by now. But what it didn't know was how to shake the restlessness that had settled inside me like a second skin.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling. My fingers instinctively reached for the chain around my neck-a dull, familiar weight. The pendant rested on my chest, cold against my skin.

That night.

It came back in flashes.

A laugh.

A whisper.

Eyes that never left mine.

A name I once heard... and then never again.

Beep. Beep.

My alarm shattered the silence, piercing through my thoughts like a cruel reminder.

I sighed. "Not now, Shub."

Dragging myself out of bed, I walked to the shower. I started with cold water-just enough to shock my system awake-before switching to hot. It helped... a little.

Once dressed in my gym gear, I headed to the training facility. Net practice was scheduled for 7 AM, but I always started earlier. Routine. Control. Focus.

Three things I still had.

Or so I told myself.

---

On the Ground - Practice Session

The ground was alive by 6:30 AM.

Boys were running field drills, others were batting in the nets-throwdowns, slip catching, coaches barking corrections. The hum of cricket before a storm.

As for me-I was in the nets, bat in hand.

My shots were clean. Every drive, pull, and flick was technically perfect. But that was the problem-they were just textbook.

There was no feel. No instinct. No flow.

It wasn't lost on the coach. Or Dev, who passed by during the drinks break with raised eyebrows.

"Oi, Gill. Are you batting or just mimicking a robot?"

I didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

I continued hitting.

My father's voice echoed in my head from the night before: "Cricket should be your priority always. Don't get distracted by things that don't last."

I nodded to myself and reset my stance.

Not every century makes you invincible.

You have to earn your place every day.

And right now, I was earning mine-one mechanical, joyless stroke at a time.

---

Locker Room

After everyone had left the ground, I stayed back.

One more hour.

By the time I entered the locker room, my shirt was soaked and my muscles were sore, but the restlessness hadn't faded.

The hot shower was a welcome relief. For a brief moment, I wasn't a captain or a cricketer-just a man beneath a stream of water, trying to feel whole again.

Wrapped in a towel, I moved toward my locker.

Brown hoodie. Grey track pants. Something warm and forgettable.

As I was tying my shoelaces, Dev walked in, sipping a protein shake.

He looked at me like I was an unsolved puzzle.

"Another hour after practice? You trying to make us all look lazy?"

I shrugged. "Needed to clear my head."

He sat on the bench beside me. "And? Did it work?"

I didn't reply.

Dev leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Shubman... you just won Player of the Match, and you're in form. You should be buzzing. Instead, you look like you lost something."

I gave a hollow laugh. "Maybe I did."

He frowned. "You've been off lately. What's going on?"

I hesitated.

Then I spoke.

"That night," I said quietly. "It won't leave me."

Dev blinked. "What night?"

I touched the chain around my neck. "You remember... that night in London. Five years ago. The hotel bar. That girl."

"Oh, that night," he said, drawing out the words. "The mysterious one you never told me much about. You just said she left a pendant behind."

I nodded. "I still have it."

Dev's eyebrows rose. "You kept it?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Shubman, it's been five years."

"I know."

"And you still think about her?"

I looked down. "She laughed like she already knew me. Maybe the details are blurry-too much to drink, too little time-but the feeling stayed. I felt like I belonged somewhere... I just hadn't realized it until I met her. And then she vanished. No full name. No number."

Dev sighed. "Bro, sometimes one night is just one night. You're romanticising a shadow."

I leaned back, eyes on the floor. "I tried to let it go. I even searched her name-Aashi. Every city had hundreds. London, Delhi, Chandigarh... it was like chasing a ghost. I gave up eventually."

He didn't say anything, just watched me.

"But the memory?" I added, voice softening. "That stayed."

Dev raised an eyebrow. "Still?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why. Maybe because it felt... real. More real than anything else I've had. I haven't felt like that with girls I've actually dated."

He tilted his head. "You sure it wasn't just the thrill of the unknown?"

I hesitated. "Maybe. But even now, it keeps coming back. Her laugh. That moment. I don't even know her full name, but it won't leave me."

Dev looked at me with a mixture of pity and concern. "Maybe because she never rejected you. She disappeared. We always chase what we can't have."

"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe she left too soon."

Dev stood up. "Let it go, man. If it was meant to be, she wouldn't have vanished. Five years is a long time to wait on a maybe."

I didn't answer.

Because deep down, I didn't know if I believed that.

---

BCCI - Meeting with Selectors

The boardroom smelled like paper, old coffee, and tension.

I took my seat beside Coach Bhattacharya, with a stack of notes in front of me. It was selection day for the upcoming Test series against Australia.

A three-match tour.

Crucial.

Being captain meant more than just leading from the front-it meant being fair, strategic, and, more importantly, political when needed.

Arguments erupted in the boardroom the moment the meeting began.

Tension crackled like a live wire across the table, with selectors flipping through sheets, coaches murmuring statistics, and the team manager looking like he hadn't slept in days.

"I think we need to drop Raghav," one of the selectors said without even glancing up. "His ODI performance was poor."

I leaned forward. "That was one match. His Test average is still one of the best this year. We can't let one bad game overshadow a solid record in red-ball cricket."

Another selector jumped in, shaking his head. "It's not just the numbers, Shubman. There's a lot of public attention. Fans are already questioning the team's choices."

I looked around the table. "There's always scrutiny. But we don't pick players for headlines; we pick them to win."

The room fell silent for a moment.

I could feel the weight of every gaze upon me.

"We need consistency," I continued. "Not just flashy decisions. Raghav has proven himself in this format. Dropping him now would send the wrong message to every player in that dressing room."

Voices rose again. Everyone had an opinion-some rational, others driven by politics or panic.

But I remained firm.

This wasn't about media optics.

It was about doing what was right for the team.

And as captain, that was my responsibility.

Eventually, we reached a settlement.

Mostly.

As the squad was finalised and the conversation shifted to brand partnerships and off-field image, I sensed what was coming.

The manager looked at me and said, "As the face of the team, Shubman, your off-field presence is also under scrutiny."

Translation: The media storm regarding my 'secret date' made them nervous.

"Nothing happened," I replied dryly. "It was just dinner with a group. One photo, taken out of context."

He forced a tight smile. "Context doesn't matter when the public is watching."

The coach added quietly, "You're doing great, but just... be careful."

I nodded.

They didn't need to say it outright.

They were watching me.

Right now, I couldn't afford another misstep.

---

Evening- Hotel room

Later that night, I sat in my hotel room, watching a movie.

I picked up my phone.

The lock screen had five missed calls from Dev and a notification explosion that made my stomach churn. I didn't need to open anything. I already knew what the trending tag would say.

I opened Twitter anyway like a masochist.

#ShubmanGill was number one.

#SecretDateNight was climbing fast.

I scrolled.

**@CricketWithKavi**

BREAKING: Spotted! #ShubmanGill was seen leaving The Grounds of Alexandria at midnight with rising Bollywood actress Aditi Kapoor. Dating rumors swirl ahead of the Test series! 👀🍷

📸[photo attached]

#ShubmanGill #AditiKapoor #CricketGossip

A blurry photo. Dim lights. A shot of me holding the café door open. Aditi was behind me. That was all.

It had been a friendly dinner with a group after an ad shoot. She laughed at a joke, and I walked out first. Now we were apparently in love.

I sighed. "Of course, this is what they run with."

**@pitchsidebanter**

Aditi Kapoor? Seriously? That's how we lose focus before an AUS tour.

First, it was Hardik; now it's Shubman. Stay single, win matches - it's not hard! 😤

#INDvAUS #Gill

I rubbed my eyes.

God forbid we have lives outside cricket or friends who happen to be actresses.

Stay single, win matches-as if discipline is supposed to mean loneliness.

**@sportslensindia**

Management reportedly "unhappy" with #ShubmanGill's recent off-field image.

Brand deals at stake. Is captaincy pressure getting to him?

Full story → [link]

#CricketIndia #MediaBuzz

That one stung a little more.

They didn't care about how I was holding up mentally. Only how I looked in headlines.

Pressure? I wasn't cracking under pressure.

I was just tired of pretending I didn't carry weight off the field.

**@flickoff_flickon**

Honestly, can we let players live? Man plays 7 hours straight; can't even step out for a late dinner? Chill, people.

#SupportOurPlayers #ShubmanGill

I stared at that one a little longer.

A small mercy. A stranger who didn't know me, defending me anyway.

I leaned back against the headboard, tossing the phone beside me.

It wasn't the rumours that bothered me.

It was the fact that they were so sure they knew who I was.

The batsman.

The captain.

The boy with endorsements and magazine covers.

The guy linked to actresses and dinner tables.

Within seconds, Dev called.

"You saw?"

"Yeah."

"Stay off social media for a few days. Let it pass."

I ran a hand over my face. "They think they know everything."

"They don't," Dev reassured me. "But they don't need to. Play the game - on and off the field."

I didn't respond.

He was right.

But the weight of pretending was becoming increasingly difficult.

Not because of the scandal, but because nobody knew why I was slipping.

I missed someone who didn't even know she still lived in my memory.

---

The apartment was dim and quiet, with city lights blinking through the curtains.

I sat on my bed, holding a pendant in my hand.

I'd worn it for years - hidden beneath my shirt, underneath jerseys, sweat, cameras, and expectations.

It had remained with me - a memory disguised as metal.

I stared at it.

"You don't even know what you meant to me," I whispered.

I pondered what Dev said earlier-how long would I keep loving someone from my past?

Slowly, I reached for the drawer beside the bed and opened it.

I placed the pendant inside.

Not thrown away.

Not forgotten.

Just... rested.

It wasn't closure.

But it was something.

Maybe, just maybe... it was time to stop looking back.

---

I lay back on my bed, letting the quiet lull me.

For the first time in weeks, my mind felt still.

Ding.

My phone vibrated.

1 New Notification:

> Appointment confirmed: Dr. Aashi Verma - 9:30 AM tomorrow. Fortis Hospital, Mumbai. (Mother's appointment).

My breath hitched.

I sat up and read the name again.

"Dr. Aashi Verma," I whispered, barely believing the name shining on my screen.

I read the name again.

Could it really be her?

And if it was...

Why was she here, now?

---

Author's Note ✨

So... how was Chapter 4? 🖤

I'd love to know:

- What did you think about Shubman's emotional turmoil?

- That pendant scene... did it hit you like it hit him?

- And when he saw Dr. Aashi Verma on the screen - did your heart skip too?

If you enjoyed the chapter, please vote and drop a comment! Your thoughts genuinely keep this story going - and your feedback means the world 💬💫

Chapter 5 is going to stir some quiet storms.

Until then,

With all my love

🖋- the_stellarflower