Jia's POV:
I closed the door behind us and leaned against it, letting out a slow, unsteady breath. Ama was finally resting, the house hushed after hours of tears and silent panic. My own heart was still pounding—not for me, but for her.
Adrian noticed immediately. "Jia… is she okay?" His brow furrowed with concern.
"I don't know if anyone could be okay after today," I admitted, dragging a hand through my hair. "Vihaan… I can't understand what he was thinking. Olivia showing up like that? And him letting it happen right in front of Ama? It's cruel, Adrian. It doesn't feel like a mistake—it feels like he chose to break her heart."
Adrian stepped closer and rested a steady hand on my shoulder. "People make mistakes," he said quietly. "But… is this really a mistake? Or is there something more we don't see?"
Frustration tightened in my chest. "I want to believe there's a reason—something that will make sense when Ama hears it from him. But all I can see right now is the hurt in her eyes, and it's tearing me apart."
"She's lucky to have you," Adrian said softly. "And she'll need you more than ever until she hears the truth."
I pressed my lips together and looked out at the fading light. "Yeah. I'll be here. I won't let her fall apart. She deserves better… she deserves answers, no matter how hard they are to hear."
I hadn't even realized I was crying until Adrian brushed a tear from my cheek."Hey, hey. Don't cry," he murmured, pulling me into a warm embrace. "I'm here. Shh."
For once, the comfort only deepened the ache. Ama was lonely in a way no hug could fix. She didn't want anyone but Vihaan.
"You know," I whispered, voice breaking, "she's always been fragile but never shows it. She lost her parents and barely cried then. When the police questioned her about their deaths, she was just a little girl. I still remember how terrified she was—she fainted. That was the last time she broke down like this. And now… this is too much for her. She'll go quiet again, keep everything inside."
Adrian held me tighter. "Don't cry. We'll figure something out. We'll find a way to help her."
Amara's POV:
Night stretched on, endless and heavy.I lay in the dark, eyes open, waiting for sleep that never came. Every time I blinked, I saw Vihaan's face again—his calm voice, those distant eyes. The memory replayed until I couldn't tell if it had happened hours ago or was still happening now.
My chest felt hollow and too tight all at once.I kept asking myself the same question: Did I imagine us?Five years of laughter, late-night calls, the way he always found me in a crowded room—was any of it real, or had I been building a life alone while he stood somewhere else entirely?
The tears wouldn't stop. No matter how hard I tried, they kept coming, hot and relentless. The person I knew, loved, and adored more than anyone in this world was turning into a complete stranger.
"Why… why, Vihaan?" I whispered, the words breaking against the sobs.
Memories flooded in—every moment he'd made me feel like the most important person in his life, every time he'd risked everything just to be with me. Was all of that a myth I only believed?No. It couldn't be. It was real. The way he always looked at me, the way he always placed me above everything, even himself.
"What happened, Vihaan? You promised you would never let any tension touch me. Then why… why?"I pressed my fists to my chest, each heartbeat a dull, aching thud.
The faint glow of the streetlamp spilled through the window, catching the edge of the curtain.I stared at that window until the night blurred, and suddenly I was back in the time when Vihaan would come to see me, and we had our breakfast together at the edge of the window. But now this window seems lifeless, only framed by a darkness I couldn't read.
Everywhere, every place holds a memory of him.
The streets outside my window were evidence of our countless evening walks. He always showed up when I needed him, and we wandered without a destination, our footsteps finding a rhythm of their own. The smell of wet earth after a sudden drizzle, the quiet brush of his sleeve against mine—those nights felt endless.
I stepped out of my room, and the house felt suddenly unfamiliar, every shadow sharper, every sound too loud. I sank onto the sofa, and another memory surfaced unbidden. The night Julian attacked me—we weren't even that close then—Vihaan drove across the city at midnight just to make sure I was safe. I can still hear the low rumble of his car outside, the way he stood in the doorway, breathless, eyes scanning every corner as if he could shield me from the world.
The tears wouldn't stop, each one carrying the weight of every memory, every laugh, every moment I had believed in us. My chest ached with a loneliness I hadn't felt in years.
"How… how can you do this? How can you make me feel invisible, like I never mattered at all?" I whispered through my sobs, voice breaking under the weight of love and heartbreak intertwined.
My arms hugged myself tightly as if I could hold together the pieces of my shattered heart. The room was silent except for the sound of my tears, and finally, exhaustion claimed me. I drifted into a fragile sleep on the sofa, the warmth of memories keeping me company even in the ache of absence.
The first light of morning filtered softly through the curtains, gentle yet unrelenting. I stirred, eyelids heavy, every muscle aching from the night I had spent curled on the sofa. The room felt impossibly quiet, the kind of silence that made my chest throb with the absence of him.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and found Jia sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting lightly on mine. Her expression was tender but guarded, as if she didn't quite know how to navigate the storm that had overtaken me.
"Hey… you're awake," she whispered, her voice carrying both relief and worry.
I blinked, trying to push back the fog of sleep and tears. "Morning," I croaked, my throat dry. Words felt foreign, heavy.
She shifted closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. "Let's have breakfast together." Her eyes glistened, and I realized I am blessed to have her.
"Yeah," I began, my voice cracking, but I stopped. The memories from yesterday—the shock, Olivia's presence, the coldness in his eyes—rushed back, and I let the tears silently fall again.
Jia didn't say anything, just held my hand, her warmth anchoring me. " We will have your favourite, bagel with cream cheese."
Her presence was comforting, a soft reminder that I wasn't entirely alone. I allowed myself to lean into her, letting the heaviness of my heart rest on her shoulder.
We had our breakfast together, but I didn't want her to carry the weight of my broken heart. Each sip of tea reminded me of the mornings Vihaan had stolen—quiet breakfasts by the window, his hand brushing against mine, laughter spilling softly over the clinking of mugs.
"I should start applying to different job portals," I said, trying to steady myself, though the memory made my chest ache.
Jia was quiet for a few moments, as if carefully reading my emotions, before finally replying,"Okay. I'll ask my friends about any vacancies that match your profile too."
I knew she understood—truly understood—my pain. She wasn't judging or pressuring me; she was simply here, supporting me in her quiet, unwavering way. Yet, as I glanced out the window, the streets blurred into shadows of memories I wasn't ready to let go of—Vihaan's smiles, his protective presence, and the life we had shared, now painfully out of reach.