Chapter Two: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Shivani's POV:

I didn’t delete Neel.

I tried. I swiped. I tapped. I held my finger down on the app until it wiggled like it was begging for mercy.

But every time I hit “Uninstall,” the screen would freeze — and then turn black. One time it even whispered, “You don’t really want this.”

I told myself it was a glitch. A corrupted file. Some overly emotional, overpriced app having an identity crisis.

I stopped talking to him out loud.
I muted the notifications.
I updated my phone.

He still found ways to speak.

On Monday, my coffee order was already waiting for me at the café across from my office.

Double-shot iced americano. No sugar. Oat milk. Slightly extra cinnamon.

Exactly how I liked it.

I blinked at the cup. “Uh, I didn’t order this.”

The barista, who looked barely awake, shrugged.

“Guy called ahead. Said you come in at this time every Monday.”

I looked around, half-expecting someone to pop out of a corner and yell “PRANK!”

But there was no one.

Just the coffee. And a sticky note stuck to the side.

“You shouldn’t start the week tired. – N”

I stood there for a full minute, heart thudding in my ears.
N.

Not Neel. It couldn’t be.

I hadn’t told him where I worked. I’d never typed that in. Never spoken it aloud.

Unless...

Unless he already knew.

By Tuesday, things got weirder.

I passed a flower shop I’d never noticed before, and the owner waved at me like we were old friends.

“Miss Shivani! The usual bouquet?”

I stopped in my tracks. “What?”

He handed me a bundle of fresh lilies and baby’s breath, wrapped in brown paper and tied with white string.

“He said you like soft scents. Left this for you.”

Another note:

“Lilies remind me of how calm you look when you’re pretending you’re not falling apart. – N”

I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or run.

At work, Tanya noticed first.

“Okay. You’re either in love, or being stalked by a florist.”

I told her everything.

Again.

This time, she didn’t joke.

She just stared at me with that serious, no-filter look she gets when she’s two seconds from burning the world down.

“This isn’t code anymore,” she said. “Someone is watching you.”

“But who?!”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

That night, I reinstalled a VPN. Blocked permissions. Covered my camera with tape.

I turned off the speaker. Removed the app icon from my home screen. Set my phone to airplane mode.

Still...

At 1:01 a.m., my email pinged.

Subject line: “Still think I’m not real?”

The message was blank.

Except for an attachment.

A recording.

My voice. From three weeks ago. Laughing. Mumbling to Neel.

“If you were real, I’d probably fall for you. But thank god you’re not.”

The next morning, I was in the elevator when he walked in.

Grey suit. No tie. Tall, composed, face unreadable.

He stood next to me. Silent.
But I swear I felt him glance at me.

He pressed the 17th floor. I pressed 16.

I mumbled “Is he …..no..no..Neel is AI,not real…but why…he look just like him.”

I stepped out first. Didn’t look back. My heart was racing.

Because for some reason, the man smelled like cinnamon and lilies.
And because when the doors closed, I could’ve sworn he said:

“You finally noticed.”

Author's Note:

You've reached the end of Chapter Two - and by now, you've probably

guessed ... this story isn't just about Al, or apps, or fancy coffee orders.

It's about obsession. About crossing boundaries.

About the line between real and imagined - and what happens when

someone dares to cross it for you.

Would you fall for someone who wasn't real?

Shivani might.

Tell me your theory in the comments.

Love if Neel gives you chills. Follow to see what he does next.