My phone buzzed. I'd set it to vibrate, a habit from work meetings — but time with Auriel felt just as serious.
I glanced at the screen.
How is it? Is your friend okay?"
Of course. Just as we were about to dive deeper, he appeared — like clockwork.
I smiled, then switched to the front camera. Auriel leaned in, raising her glass in mock toast as I snapped a quick selfie of us looking smug and slightly sun-kissed.
I sent it to him with a simple caption: She's alive. Still snarky. Sends a wave."
Another buzz followed.
Say hello from me."
I glanced up from the screen. "Kaelen says hello," I said casually, tapping my straw against the glass.
Auriel sipped her drink and muttered, "Tell him I say thanks for not being dramatic."
I grinned. "He's not the dramatic type."
She raised a brow. "Oh really? Mr. V-line selfie and 'I miss you' voice notes?"
"Touché."
Auriel arched a brow, a slow grin creeping up. "Oh, so he gets updates during our date now?"
"Just checking in," I shrugged. "He's got this sixth sense for showing up when things get real."
"Or maybe," she teased, "You're glowing and he felt the energy shift through the atmosphere."
I rolled my eyes. "Please stop quoting crystals and cosmic threads. That's your job, not his."
She laughed, leaning back, clearly satisfied. "Look at you. Letting someone in without trying to control the temperature."
I paused, letting her words sink in.
Maybe I really was.
And maybe Kaelen wasn't trying to claim space — he was just being there, the way people do when they care. Quiet, consistent, curious. Not asking for permission. Just arriving.
The phone buzzed again. Kaelen.
You look happy. It suits you."
I bit my lip, letting that one sit.
Auriel saw the expression on my face and didn't press. Instead, she took the last sip of her drink and simply said, "He's part of the story now, huh?"
"Yeah," I whispered. "I think he always was."
Then she leaned forward, suddenly serious. "So… where are you two, actually?"
I shrugged. "Still figuring it out."
Auriel gave me that look — the one that made me feel seen and exposed in equal parts.
"I mean it," I said. "It's… not like anything I've had before."
"Because it's not messing with your red flags?"
I nodded. "Exactly. No warning voice. Just… peace. It's weird."
She smirked. "That's called healthy, babe. Try not to panic."
Her phone rang mid-banter. Auriel glanced at the screen, held it for a second, then answered.
I didn't need to eavesdrop—I already knew.
It was Zehra.
Our best friend. Our yoga guru. Divorced, raising three kids on her own. The youngest—a boy—was deaf and mute. Her strength had always been quiet, centered, but lately, even her light seemed dimmed.
As soon as Auriel hung up, we both instinctively opened the group chat: Yoga Cracks. Just six of us—her former students turned ride-or-die sisters. The class had gone virtual during the pandemic, but the bond only grew stronger. Different ages, different lives, same thread.
Zehra's ex-husband had left her for a woman everyone knew as a homewrecker. The kind who smiled too sweet and left salt behind. At first, we thought it was just another messy divorce story. But then... things started to happen.
Her eldest got sick out of nowhere. Her youngest started having night terrors, signing things he couldn't explain. The middle one—her daughter—refused to sleep in her own room.
Zehra kept brushing it off. But we knew better. The energy around her house had shifted. Something clung.
Auriel and I had warned her before—this woman, the new wife, wasn't just manipulative. She dabbled. And not the harmless kind. The air around her was laced with something old and bitter. She knew how to wound without leaving a bruise.
A true black magic woman.
It was one thing to hurt the ex-wife. But targeting the kids? That was a sin! It made us—as women—seethe.
But Zehra refused to ask for our help. She was afraid we'd get hurt.
The things here, helping—meant we became the shield. Taken and faced whatever came. For me and Auriel, we sometimes did that.
So no Biggie.
But the rules also said that the help needed to be ask. Though we were mad. We could not do against it.
Later, we taught Zehra to stand up and fight.
I showed her how to work with the water element—to cleanse, to protect, to return every dark thread back to the sender.
But something still gnawed at me.
Something beyond the now. Beyond this life.
This... wasn't new.
The fear in Zehra's voice.
The way she paused before speaking.
The silence she wove around her children.
I'd felt it before.
Not in this lifetime.
But somewhere...
Long ago.
And when the realisation hit, it caught me off guard.