Chapter 3: The Weight of Secrets

The days blurred together as Zoya and Aarish worked on her disappearance. He taught her how to cover her tracks, how to move without being seen, how to become someone else. But with each passing day, Zoya felt herself slipping further away from the person she used to be. It was like she was losing pieces of herself, one by one, until she wasn't sure what was left.

While teaching Zoya how to cover her tracks, Aarish notices how she bites her lip when she's concentrating. It's a small, endearing habit that makes him smile despite himself. Zoya catches him looking and asks, "What?" He shakes his head, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before.

He also usually teases her about her terrible handwriting but this time, it was different. "You're going to have to work on that," he says, smirking. Zoya rolls her eyes but laughs, and the sound catches Aarish off guard. He finds himself smiling back, a rare, genuine smile that makes Zoya's heart skip a beat.

Aarish noticed the change in her. He saw the way her eyes grew distant, the way her laughter became forced, the way she flinched at the sound of her own name. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he didn't. He couldn't. Because the truth was, he was hiding something too.

One evening, they found themselves on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city spread out below them like a glittering sea. The air was cool, and the stars were hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. Zoya sat on the edge, her legs dangling over the side, while Aarish stood a few feet away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. As they sit on the rooftop, Zoya tells Aarish about her mother leaving. Her voice is quiet, but the pain is raw. Aarish doesn't say anything—he just listens. When she's done, he reaches over and brushes a tear from her cheek with his thumb. It's a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. Zoya looks at him, her heart pounding, but he's already looking away.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like?" Zoya asked, her voice soft. "To just… start over? To be someone completely different?"

Aarish didn't answer right away. He stared out at the city, his expression unreadable. "Sometimes," he said finally. "But it's not that simple. You can't just run away from who you are."

Zoya frowned, her fingers tightening around the edge of the roof. "Why not? Why can't I just leave it all behind?"

Aarish turned to look at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place. "Because no matter how far you run, your past will always catch up to you. And when it does, it's going to hurt."

Zoya's breath caught in her throat. There was something in his voice, something raw and painful, that made her heart ache. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but before she could, he turned away.

"We should go," he said, his voice flat. "It's getting late."

Zoya nodded, but she didn't move. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her, something important. And it scared her.

One evening, Zoya tries to cook dinner for them but ends up burning the food. Aarish walks in to find her standing in the kitchen, looking defeated. He raises an eyebrow. "What happened here?" She groans, covering her face with her hands. "I'm a disaster." He chuckles and starts cleaning up the mess. "Come on," he says. "I'll teach you how to make something edible." As they cook together, Zoya can't help but notice how close they're standing, how his arm brushes against hers, and how her cheeks flush every time he looks at her.

The next day, Zoya decided to take a risk. She needed to see her father one last time, to say goodbye, even if it was only in her heart. She knew it was dangerous, but she couldn't leave without knowing he was okay.

She waited until Aarish was busy, then slipped out of the safe house they had been staying in. The streets were crowded, and she kept her head down, her hood pulled low over her face. She didn't want to be recognized.

When she reached her old neighborhood, her heart began to race. The familiar sights and sounds brought back a flood of memories, both good and bad. She hesitated at the corner, her eyes fixed on the house she had grown up in. It looked the same as it always had, but it felt different. It felt… empty.

She was about to turn away when the front door opened, and her father stepped out. He looked older than she remembered, his hair grayer, his shoulders more stooped. He was carrying a bag of trash, and he moved slowly, like every step was a struggle.

Zoya's chest tightened, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him and tell him she was sorry, that she loved him, that she didn't want to leave. But she couldn't. She had made her choice.

She watched as he disappeared around the side of the house, and then she turned and walked away, her heart breaking with every step.

When she returned to the safe house, Aarish was waiting for her. His arms were crossed, and his expression was dark.

"Where were you?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Zoya flinched. "I… I just needed some air."

Aarish stepped closer, his eyes blazing. "You can't just leave like that, Zoya. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is? If someone had seen you—"

"I know!" Zoya snapped, her voice cracking. "I know it was stupid, okay? But I had to see him. I had to see my dad."

Aarish's expression softened, but only for a moment. "You can't keep doing this," he said, his voice quieter now. "You can't keep looking back. It's only going to make it harder."

Zoya shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You don't understand. You don't know what it's like to leave everything behind."

Aarish's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Zoya thought he was going to yell at her. But instead, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened at first, but then she melted into him, her sobs shaking her entire body.

"I do understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "More than you know."

Zoya didn't respond. She just clung to him, her tears soaking through his shirt. She didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually, her sobs subsided, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," Aarish interrupted, his voice gentle. "Just… don't do it again, alright?"

Zoya nodded, but she couldn't meet his eyes. She felt guilty, not just for leaving, but for the way she was starting to feel about him. She didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, she had started to care about him. More than she should.

Aarish reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "We're in this together, Zoya," he said softly. "But you have to trust me."

Zoya looked into his eyes, and for a moment, she thought about telling him everything—about her father, about her fears, about the way her heart ached every time he looked at her. But she didn't. Instead, she just nodded.

"I trust you," she whispered.

But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was lying—to him, and to herself.