Chapter 5: Ghosts of the Past
The next morning, Elira walked into school feeling… different.
Not completely healed, but no longer shattered. There was light now however faint it was. And most of that light came from the way Zion made her feel: seen, heard, understood.
She didn't expect to see Zayn again so soon.
But fate didn't ask for her permission.
He stood near the lockers, arms crossed, chatting with Lyra, his signature smirk plastered on his face. The sight made Elira's chest tighten. She froze for a second.
"Don't stop," Zion whispered beside her, gently touching her back. "Keep walking."
She nodded and moved forward, her steps firm but trembling inside.
As they passed, Lyra sneered.
"Wow, what a cute couple. Replacing your baby daddy already?"
Elira stopped. Her hands clenched. Zion was about to say something, but Elira raised a hand to stop him.
She turned to Lyra. "You know what's worse than being a teen mom? Being a teen mean girl with no life. Grow up."
The hallway went quiet. Lyra's eyes widened. Even Zayn looked shocked.
Elira turned back and walked away, Zion beside her.
"That was hot," he said, grinning.
Elira laughed softly. "I'm tired of being silent."
But Zayn wasn't done.
Later that day, he caught up with Zion behind the school. Alone.
"You're into her now?" he asked coldly.
Zion didn't flinch. "You hurt her."And She lost the baby.
"That's not my..."
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Zion snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "You pushed her. She was carrying your child, Zayn."
Zayn looked away for a moment, jaw clenched.
"I didn't mean to," he muttered.
"You didn't mean to get her pregnant. You didn't mean to abandon her. You didn't mean to hurt her. Everything you do is something you 'didn't mean,' right?"
Zayn's eyes flashed. "You think you're better than me?"
"No," Zion said, voice calmer now. "I just don't hide from the mess I make."
For once, Zayn didn't respond.
He just walked away.
That night, Elira sat on her bed, scrolling through her phone. A message popped up.
Zayn: *Can we talk?*
Her heart pounded.
She stared at the screen. Then tossed the phone aside.
But the message lingered in her mind.
Can we talk?
The boy who broke her. The boy who ran away. The father of the child she lost.
She didn't owe him anything. Not after everything.
And yet…
She typed back: Meet me at the rooftop tomorrow. After school.
The next day, Elira arrived first. The air was crisp, clouds heavy. A storm threatened, but hadn't broken yet.
Zayn showed up five minutes later.
He looked… different. Not in appearance, but in expression,Tired,and ashamed
"I didn't come to fight," he said.
"Good," she replied. "Because I don't have the energy to hate you anymore."
He swallowed hard. "I messed up. I panicked. I wasn't ready."
"I wasn't ready too, Zayn. But I was still there. Still carrying our child. Alone."
"I know," he whispered.
"I don't want an apology," she continued. "I don't need your guilt. I just want you to leave me alone."
"But what if I want to be in your life again?"
She looked at him sharply.
"Why now?"
"Because… I regret everything."
Elira's heart ached but not because she wanted him back.
Because it used to matter. But it didn't anymore.
"There's someone in my life now," she said softly. "Someone who showed up when you ran."
Zayn nodded slowly. "Zion."
"Yes."
The silence stretched.
Finally, he said, "I'm sorry, Elira. I mean it."
"I know," she said. "But it's too late."
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Zion waited for her by the gates. When he saw her approaching, his brows furrowed in concern.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded and slipped her hand into his.
"I'm better now."
They walked home in silence, hand in hand, under the darkening sky.
The following weekend, Zion invited her to his home. She hesitated at first stepping into Zayn's world felt dangerous but this was Zion's space now.
It was grand, like she expected. Marble floors, chandeliers, glass walls. But it didn't feel cold.
Zion made it warm.
He showed her his art canvas after canvas of abstract emotions. Pain, hope, longing.
"You painted all these?" she asked, awed.
"Yeah. After I lost someone a few years ago. It's how I cope."
She looked at him.
"You lost someone?"
"My best friend,Cancer. She was fifteen."
Elira sat beside him on the floor, gently touching one of the paintings.
"I'm so sorry."
Zion smiled sadly. "It's why I understood you. Losing someone changes everything."
They sat there, two broken souls finding peace in silence.
A week later, rumors swirled again.
"Zayn's acting weird," one girl said. "He's skipping classes."
"He's drinking," another whispered.
Elira tried not to care. But Zion did.
He confronted his brother one evening.
"Don't fall apart now," Zion said. "You made your choices."
Zayn laughed bitterly. "And you took what I left behind."
"She's not a*thing, Zayn."
"I know," he said. "She was the only good thing I had. And I ruined it."
Zion sighed. "Then let her heal. Don't pull her down with you."
Zayn didn't respond. Just turned and walked into the night.
Elira and Zion continued to grow closer.
They started studying together. Sharing old songs. Laughing about things that once felt impossible to smile at.
One night, under the stars, Zion turned to her.
"Can I ask something?"
"Anything."
"If things were different… if Zayn didn't run would you still have loved me?"
Elira looked at him for a long moment.
"No. I wouldn't have let myself see you."
He nodded slowly.
"But," she added, "I'm glad things weren't different."
He smiled.
"Me too."
And beneath the quiet stars, they both understood: healing wasn't about forgetting the past.
It was about choosing who you became after it.