5

The air was suffocating. Tara felt like her lungs couldn't expand properly, like the oxygen in the room had thinned the second Aryan stepped in.

Her eyes stayed locked with his for a heartbeat longer than she could handle—his familiar gaze, the kind that once made her feel safe, now unraveled her completely. He looked... different. Sharper somehow. But his eyes were still the same—deep, knowing, like they could see right through her.

And she hated it.

She couldn't move. Her feet were planted firmly on the floor, but her chest was tight, like her heart was desperately trying to push her body into flight.

Aisha's eyes darted from Tara to Aryan and back. She knew. She had always known what Aryan meant to Tara—what he had done to her. Her brain worked quickly to defuse the situation before it spiraled into something worse.

"Oh, hi..." Aisha said, her voice light but tight with tension, masking the alarm she felt for Tara. She forced a small smile, but her eyes were cautious, reading the room like a battlefield.

Aryan gave a polite nod, his face composed, but his gaze flicked back to Tara. He was trying to play it cool, but the slight parting of his lips, the quick rise and fall of his chest—he was just as thrown off as she was.

The silence stretched a second too long. Aria shifted awkwardly beside Aisha, sensing the tension—knowing the full story.

Aisha jumped in again, this time her tone more deliberate. "Tara, I just remembered—we need to get started on that thing... for our course? Remember? The draft?"

Tara blinked. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but her throat felt dry. She nodded quickly, latching onto the excuse like a lifeline.

"Yeah... yeah, you guys do." Aria quickly added, hoping to strengthen their case.

Aisha turned to Rohan with an apologetic smile, overcompensating. "Sorry, yaar. We completely forgot we have to submit that draft for Week 1. We really need to hurry up."

Rohan, ever the easygoing one, waved it off. "Oh, no worries. We'll do this properly another time."

Aisha smiled, relieved, then slipped her hand into Tara's, squeezing gently. "Let's go."

Tara let herself be led. Her legs finally started working again. They made their way towards the door, but Aryan was still standing there—right by the narrow kitchen entryway. There was no way out without brushing past him.

Aisha went first, her eyes straight ahead, avoiding him entirely. But Tara...

As she stepped closer, she felt it again—the way his presence commanded the space, the faint smell of him that she still remembered, like warm musk and something clean, familiar. He didn't move out of the way entirely. If anything, he leaned just slightly—subtly—in her direction.

For a split second, she feared his hand might brush against her. That he might stop her.

But he didn't.

Still, she felt it—the heat, the nearness. The wanting.

Her breath hitched, but she forced her legs forward. She didn't look at him. Couldn't. If she did, she might break.

She stepped past him and out into the corridor. Once the door closed behind them, Tara felt like she could finally breathe.

They walked in silence through the hallway, the air cool against her flushed cheeks. Her heart was still racing, and her palms were damp.

When they reached the point where they would normally part ways, Aisha turned to her, concern etched into her face.

"Taru..."

But Tara shook her head quickly, forcing a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Aisha opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, but she knew better. She had seen that look before—the wall Tara put up when she was barely holding it together.

Aisha sighed. "Okay... Call me if you need anything, yeah?"

Tara nodded and turned toward her studio. Her steps were quick, her chest heavy with everything she was trying to suppress.

When she finally closed her door behind her, she let out a shaky breath.

Her hand hovered over her chest like she could physically hold her heart together.

She had spent a year convincing herself she was over him.

Ten seconds in a room with Aryan Deshmukh, and everything unraveled.

She collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Why is he back?

But worse than that...

Why does it still feel like this?

~•~

Tara woke up with a heavy chest, the kind that made breathing feel like a chore. The early morning light peeked through her curtains, gentle but unforgiving, reminding her that the day had begun whether she was ready for it or not. She lay still for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, hoping the ache in her chest would ease.

It didn't.

Dragging herself out of bed, she stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded down her body, but instead of soothing her, it broke something loose inside. Her hands pressed against the tiled wall as tears mixed with the water running down her face.

Why is he back?

She bit her lip, trying to contain the sob threatening to escape.

Why now?

She had spent an entire year trying to erase him from her mind. Piece by piece, she had patched herself back together—forced herself to believe that she was okay, that she had moved on. But Aryan being here, in her space, so close—it felt like her entire year of healing had been ripped apart in seconds.

Why, God? Why now?

Her chest shuddered with another silent sob.

By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her eyes were red, and the lump in her throat was still there. She changed into her soft home shorts and a loose t-shirt, tying her damp hair up. She tried to breathe through it. Pretend it was fine.

It wasn't.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She knew who it would be before she even opened it.

Aisha and Aria stood there—concern etched into their faces, eyes soft with understanding.

"You okay, Taru?" Aisha asked gently, stepping inside.

Tara pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly as she closed the door behind them. "I don't know, guys... I don't know. Seeing him here just... it scares me. It's like everything I worked so hard to forget is right here, in my face. Why is he here?"

Aisha sighed, pulling Tara into a side hug. "I get it. But listen, you can't let him affect you like this."

Aria nodded firmly. "Exactly. He did you wrong, Tara. He left. And he didn't even bother to open that message. He just disappeared."

Tara's heart twisted at those words. She hadn't checked that message since the day she sent it. It had been burned into her memory—two ticks. Delivered. Not seen. Ignored

But now, her fingers twitched. She picked up her phone. Opened their old chat. Her heart raced as she clicked on Message Info.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It said Delivered. Not Read.

Her message—the one where she had poured her pain and heartbreak—had never been seen.

Her voice trembled. "He... He never read it."

Aisha's brows furrowed. "What?"

Tara turned the screen to show them. "Look. It was never read."

Aria's eyes narrowed. "Okay, but so what? He still left. He still disappeared. He still didn't reach out."

Aisha's voice was firmer this time. "Snap out of it, Tara. Don't do this to yourself. Delete the chat. Why do you even still have it?"

Tara swallowed, fingers hovering over the delete button. "I don't know..."

Aisha exhaled sharply. "You're holding onto something that hurt you. Let it go, Taru. He doesn't deserve that space in your life."

Tara looked down at the screen, but she couldn't do it. Not yet. Not today.

Instead, she locked her phone and set it aside. "You're right. I won't let him get to me."

Aisha softened, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "Good. And listen... don't worry. We won't tell Rohan or Aakash anything. This is your story. No one else needs to know unless you want them to."

Aria nodded. "Exactly. It's your past. We're not dragging that into this year."

Relief flooded Tara, but it was mixed with exhaustion—the emotional kind that left her drained.

"Thank you... I just... I need time."

"We're here," Aisha assured her.

The conversation shifted after that. They chatted lightly about random things—clothes, classes, a funny reel Aisha had seen. They were trying to bring her back, and she appreciated it, even though the ache in her chest hadn't fully left.

Eventually, they got up to leave.

"We'll check in later, okay?" Aria said as she hugged Tara goodbye.

Tara nodded, forcing a smile as she waved them off. When the door shut behind them, her smile faded. The silence of her studio pressed in again.

She sat back on her bed, staring at the phone she had placed on the bedside table.

Her heart whispered what she refused to say out loud.

Why didn't you read it, Aryan?

But the bigger question—the one that haunted her more—was the one she was afraid to answer:

Why do I still care?

💜