Chapter 4: The Cracks begin to Show

The days turned into weeks, and Zoya's new life began to take shape. She had a new name, a new identity, and a new routine. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was living someone else's life. She felt like a ghost, haunting the edges of a world that didn't belong to her.

Aarish was always there, guiding her, protecting her, but there was a distance between them now. Zoya could feel it, like a wall slowly being built brick by brick. She didn't know if it was her fault or his, but it was there, and it hurt.

One night, they found themselves in a small, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of the city. It was the kind of place where people went to forget, and Zoya could see why. The air was thick with smoke and the sound of laughter, but it felt hollow, like a mask hiding something darker.

Aarish sat across from her, his eyes fixed on the glass in his hand. He had been quiet all evening, and Zoya couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

Aarish looked up, his expression unreadable. "I'm fine," he said, but his voice was tight, like he was holding something back.

Zoya frowned. "You don't seem fine. You've been… distant lately."

Aarish sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just… complicated."

Zoya's chest tightened. She didn't know why, but his words felt like a knife twisting in her heart. "You can talk to me, you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Aarish looked at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place. For a moment, she thought he was going to open up, to tell her everything. But then he looked away, his jaw tightening.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice flat. "Just forget it."

Zoya felt a lump forming in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She didn't know why his words hurt so much, but they did. It felt like he was pushing her away, and she didn't know how to stop him.

The next day, Zoya decided to take a walk to clear her head. She didn't tell Aarish where she was going—she didn't want to bother him. But as she wandered through the streets, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

She turned a corner and found herself face to face with Noor. The girl was leaning against a wall, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

"Well, well," Noor said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Look who's out and about."

Zoya's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to stay calm. "What do you want, Noor?"

Noor pushed off the wall and stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "I just wanted to see how you're holding up. You know, since Aarish is so busy keeping you safe."

Zoya frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Noor's smirk widened. "Oh, he didn't tell you? Typical. Aarish always was good at keeping secrets."

Zoya's chest tightened, and she felt a wave of unease wash over her. "What secrets?"

Noor leaned in, her voice low and dangerous. "Let's just say there's more to your little disappearing act than meets the eye. And if you're not careful, you might just find yourself in over your head."

Zoya's breath caught in her throat, but before she could respond, Noor turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind racing.

When Zoya 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 just went for a walk. I 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 needed to think."

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 putting yourself at risk."

Zoya shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, okay? I just… I feel like I'm losing myself. Like I don't even know who I am anymore."

Aarish reached out and pulled her into his arms, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "I know it's hard," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But you're not alone. I'm here."

Zoya clung to him, her tears soaking through his shirt. She wanted to believe him, to trust him, but Noor's words kept echoing in her mind.

"Aarish," she said, her voice hoarse. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Aarish stiffened, and for a moment, Zoya thought he was going to pull away. But then he sighed, his arms tightening around her.

"There are things I can't tell you," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "Things that would only put you in more danger. But you have to trust me, Zoya. Please."

Zoya looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. But all she saw was pain, and something else—something that looked almost like guilt.

"I trust you," she whispered.

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

They are sitting together in the safe house, the rain tapping softly against the window. Zoya is sketching in a notebook, and Aarish watches her, a small smile playing on his lips. She looks up and catches him staring. "What?" she asks, her cheeks flushing. He shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, but his voice is softer than usual. "You're just… different." Zoya doesn't know what to say, so she looks back down at her sketch, her heart racing. Zoya tells him about her childhood dream of becoming an artist. "I used to draw all the time," she says, her eyes lighting up. "I wanted to create something beautiful, something that would last forever." Aarish watches her as she talks, a small smile on his lips. "You already have," he says quietly. Zoya looks at him, confused. "What do you mean?" He shakes his head, his smile fading. "Nothing. Just… keep drawing, okay?"