Aarohi didn't speak for a long time after the memory hit her.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked breaths.
Her fingers trembled violently.
Her throat burned with the words she never expected to remember:
"I love you."
Arin sat frozen in front of her, stunned into silence.
The air between them felt heavy —
too heavy for two people to hold,
too heavy for a room to contain.
Aarohi wiped her tears with trembling hands.
"It felt real," she whispered.
"Too real."
Arin looked down, jaw clenched so tight it trembled.
"Aarohi… you're remembering someone who died with you. Someone who belongs to a life that's gone."
Aarohi shook her head weakly.
"But feelings don't die with the body."
Arin looked up sharply.
His eyes burned — not with anger, but with heartbreak.
"Aarohi… what do you want me to say? That I'm fine knowing you loved someone else? That I'm okay watching you fall apart over him?"
Aarohi flinched.
"I'm not falling for him," she whispered.
Arin's voice cracked.
"You REMEMBERED loving him. That's worse."
Her breath hitched.
That hurt because it was true.
Aarohi pressed her hands over her face.
"I don't want him," she whispered.
"I don't want any of this. But my heart—"
Her voice broke.
"My heart remembers him even if I don't."
Arin shut his eyes, like her words were stabbing him.
"Do you still feel it?" he asked quietly.
"That love?"
Aarohi froze.
The question felt like fire on her skin.
She shook her head quickly.
"No. I don't know. I can't know. I don't remember enough to… to feel that again."
Arin looked relieved for half a second—
then fear replaced it.
"Then why are you shaking?" he asked gently.
Aarohi whispered:
"Because his voice felt like losing something twice."
Arin's heart cracked again.
He cupped her face with desperate gentleness.
"Aarohi… you're not Aara anymore."
Aarohi's eyes filled with new tears.
She whispered:
"Then why does it feel like Aara is still alive inside me?"
Arin had no answer.
Because that was the truth.
Aarohi wasn't just remembering Aara's life—
she was becoming her again
in a way neither of them understood.
---
When Arin stepped out of the room to get water, Aarohi remained still.
Her breath fogged the air slightly.
Her fingers were cold.
Her heart felt bruised.
She whispered into the quiet:
"Riaan…"
And for the first time, speaking his name didn't feel like speaking a stranger's.
It felt like opening a door.
A soft wind brushed her hair, though the window was closed.
Aarohi's eyes widened.
"Please…" she whispered, voice shaking.
"Please don't come closer… I'm not ready."
But her soul felt something warm.
Something that wrapped around her like a memory she had forgotten how to hold.
And then—
A whisper.
Close.
Too close.
"Aara… you remembered us."
Aarohi choked on her breath.
"No… please… I'm Aarohi now."
Silence.
The type of silence that felt like someone was breathing beside her.
Her chest tightened.
"Riaan… please don't take me back there."
A soft warmth pressed against her fingertips.
Not a hand.
Not skin.
Just warmth.
Like a soul touching a soul.
Her breath trembled.
"I can't go back," she whispered.
Another whisper brushed her ear:
"Then let me come to you."
Aarohi's entire body froze.
Her tears spilled silently.
"Don't," she whispered desperately.
"Please… don't pull me in again. I can't survive that night twice."
The warmth faded.
Her heartbeat thudded painfully in her chest.
She could feel his disappointment.
His sorrow.
His longing.
Not anger.
Never anger.
Just a boy who had died and still hadn't learned how to let go.
Aarohi covered her face with her hands.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into her palms.
"I'm so sorry you died with me."
And for the first time…
she felt his grief answer hers.
Not in words.
In emotion.
A soft ache bloomed inside her chest—
warm, familiar, heartbreaking.
She gasped.
It wasn't her emotion.
It was his.
His grief.
His loss.
His loneliness.
His longing for her.
Her tears fell harder.
"I can't handle your pain," she whispered shakily.
"I can barely handle mine."
Arin returned right then, breathless, panicked.
"Aarohi!"
She looked up, eyes full of tears she could no longer hide.
Arin rushed to her, cupping her face.
"Aarohi, what happened?!"
Aarohi whispered:
"He's hurting, Arin."
Arin's breath hitched.
"Aarohi—"
"And I feel it."
Arin sat back slowly, devastated.
"Aarohi… you can't carry both of your lives. You'll collapse."
Aarohi lowered her voice.
"I'm already collapsing."
Arin pulled her close, voice breaking.
"You're not alone. Even if he tries to pull you into the past… I'll hold you here. I swear I will."
Aarohi buried her face into his chest.
"I don't want to choose between two lives."
Arin held her tightly.
"You won't have to," he whispered.
But Aarohi's voice cracked in reply:
"I think I already am."
Outside, the wind howled softly.
Inside, Aarohi trembled.
And somewhere between her tears and her heartbeat…
a familiar whisper echoed inside her mind:
"I'm coming back to you… Aara."
Aarohi gasped.
Arin tightened his arms around her.
Everything was beginning.
Everything was unraveling.
She wasn't Aara.
She wasn't Aarohi.
She was both.
And that truth…
hurt more than the night she died.
---