Wrong Number Right Feelings Short stories
The Drunk Text That Started It All
Aryan sat on his small balcony, staring at his half-empty whiskey bottle. His best friend, Raghav, had ditched him, so now he was drinking alone—just like a sad uncle at an Indian wedding.
“Regret tastes like bad whiskey,” he mumbled and sent the same message to Raghav.
A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.
Meera: “Since when do you know what regret tastes like? Last time I checked, you were drinking coffee.”
Aryan blinked.
Not Raghav. Not Raghav at all.
It was Meera—his ex-girlfriend. The same girl he had ghosted two years ago, thinking it was the best thing to do. It wasn’t.
He groaned and thought about throwing his phone off the balcony.
Aryan: “Shit. Wrong text. Ignore it.”
Meera: “Your texting skills are as bad as your life choices.”
A smirk appeared on Aryan’s face. She still had that sharp tongue.
The Sarcasm Battle Begins
Meera sat in her room, eating noodles straight from the pan. She had two choices—ignore Aryan text or do what she did best. Irritate him.
Aryan: “Why are you even replying? I thought you would block me faster than I ghosted you.”
Meera: “Blocking you would make life easy for you. I want you to suffer a little bit more.”
Aryan chuckled. She was still the same.
Aryan: “So, what’s new? Are you still planning to open your bakery, or is your boss still torturing you?”
Meera: “Still in the office. My relationship with my boss is toxic, but I can’t break up. Just like us.”
Ouch. That one hurt.
Late-Night Talk & Bad Jokes
What started as a wrong message turned into an hour-long conversation. They were still sarcastic, but the bitterness was fading.
Aryan: “I thought you would never talk to me again.”
Meera: “I thought so too. But then I realized, there are so many idiots in this world—talking to one more doesn’t make any difference.”
Aryan: “Wow, I feel so special.”
Meera: “You should. Even my Wi-Fi doesn’t reconnect this fast.”
They both laughed. God, We missed this.
Aryan: “Do you ever regret it? Us, I mean.”
There was a pause before she replied.
Meera: “Yeah. But there’s no cure for regret. The only thing you can do is… move on.”
His chest felt heavy. Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was the truth in her words.
Aryan: “So… did you move on?”
Meera: “I had to.”
A strange silence filled the space between them.
The Friends Who Made It Worse
Just when the moment was getting serious, Raghav stumbled into Aryan’s apartment—completely drunk.
“Brooo! You’re sad again? There’s no such thing as an ex. It’s just a WhatsApp status update!”
Aryan threw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Raghav.”
Meanwhile, on Meera’s side, her roommate, Simran, was listening to everything.
“Oooh, ex-boyfriend? Looks like your love story is still going on!”
Meera sighed. “No, Simran. We’re just talking.”
Simran smirked. “Yeah, yeah. And tomorrow, you’ll be posting a sad Instagram reel about it?”
The Almost Goodbye
Aryan: “So… what was this? A random text, and suddenly we’re talking again?”
Meera: “Yeah. Funny, right?”
Aryan: “A little. Also weird.”
Meera: “That’s life.”
Aryan sighed. Maybe closure wasn’t about getting all the answers. Maybe it was just about accepting things as they were.
Aryan: “Okay, last question… are you happy?”
Meera was silent for a moment.
Meera: “Not very happy. But I’m okay.”
Aryan smiled. Sometimes, being ‘okay’ is enough.
Meera: “And you?”
Aryan looked at his whiskey bottle, then at his phone.
Aryan: “Maybe now… I’m okay too.”They both smiled at their screens. They probably wouldn’t text again. But that was okay.
Message for this story :-A wrong text reconnects Aryan and Meera, leading to sarcasm, regrets, and closure—sometimes, being “okay” is enough.