The whisper didn’t fade.
It grew.
Soft at first… like a distant echo carried by the wind, but then closer… clearer… sharper, as if something unseen was stepping into their world, crossing a boundary that should never have been crossed. Simri’s breath caught in her throat, her fingers instinctively gripping the back of Kabir’s shirt as she moved slightly behind him, her heart pounding violently against her ribs, and for the first time since Kabir returned—this wasn’t about love anymore.
This was fear.
Real, chilling fear.
“Who’s there?” Kabir’s voice cut through the silence, low, firm, dangerous, his eyes scanning the darkness around them as if trying to find something that didn’t want to be found.
No answer.
Just silence.
And then—
A shadow moved.
Not like a normal shadow.
Not connected to anything.
It slipped across the ground unnaturally, stretching, twisting… almost alive.
Simri’s breath trembled. “Kabir…”
“I see it,” he said quietly.
The shadow stopped.
Right in front of them.
And slowly—
It rose.
Taking form.
Not fully human.
Not fully anything.
Just a dark, distorted figure, its edges flickering like broken reality.
And then it spoke again—
“Simri…”
This time… it sounded closer.
Too close.
Kabir stepped forward instantly, placing himself completely between Simri and the thing.
“You don’t get to call her name,” he said, his voice colder than she had ever heard before.
The shadow tilted… like it was studying him.
Then it let out a low, almost mocking sound.
“You… shouldn’t be here,” it whispered.
Kabir’s eyes darkened.
“Neither should you.”
For a second—
Everything went still.
The air.
The night.
Even Simri’s breath.
And then—
The shadow lunged.
Fast.
Unnatural.
Straight toward her.
But Kabir was faster.
He grabbed it—his hand cutting through its form like smoke, yet somehow holding it back, his entire body tensing as if fighting something far heavier than it looked.
“Stay back!” he shouted.
Simri stumbled backward, her mind blank, her body frozen in shock as she watched the impossible happening right in front of her.
The shadow writhed, its voice breaking, distorting—
“She belongs to the past… not the present… not you…”
Kabir’s grip tightened.
“She belongs to herself,” he snapped.
For a moment—
The shadow flickered violently.
And then—
It laughed.
A cold, hollow sound that sent chills through her entire body.
“No one belongs to themselves… not after they break fate…”
Simri’s heart dropped.
Break fate…?
What did that mean…?
The shadow turned its attention toward her again, even while Kabir held it.
“You remember now… don’t you?” it whispered.
Images flashed through her mind again—
The accident.
The rain.
Kabir reaching for her.
Her slipping away.
But this time—
There was something else.
Something she hadn’t seen before.
Another presence.
Watching.
Waiting.
—
“Simri!” Kabir’s voice pulled her back.
The shadow was getting stronger.
Its form growing darker, heavier, as if feeding off something.
Off her.
Kabir gritted his teeth, his body shaking slightly as he struggled to hold it.
“Go inside!” he told her.
But she didn’t move.
Because something clicked.
Something terrifying.
“This… this is because of me,” she whispered.
Kabir’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“I called you back,” she said, her voice trembling but clearer now. “I broke something… didn’t I?”
The shadow stilled.
Then slowly—
It smiled.
“You understand now…”
Kabir shook his head sharply. “Simri, don’t listen to it—”
“If I didn’t bring you back…” she continued, tears slipping down her face, “this wouldn’t be happening, right?”
Kabir’s silence said enough.
That was all she needed.
—
A painful calm settled over her.
And for the first time—
She made a decision.
—
“Kabir…” she said softly.
His grip faltered for just a second as he looked at her.
“No,” he said immediately, as if he already knew what she was going to say. “Don’t.”
“You can’t stay here,” she whispered.
“I’m not leaving you again.”
“You already did once.”
His expression shattered.
“That wasn’t my choice,” he said, his voice breaking slightly.
“And this one isn’t mine either,” she replied.
The shadow pulsed violently.
“You cannot keep him,” it whispered. “He does not belong here.”
Kabir ignored it, his eyes locked on Simri.
“I waited for you,” he said softly. “Through everything. I’m not letting go again.”
Simri took a slow step toward him.
Tears streaming down her face.
“But I am,” she whispered.
—
Kabir froze.
“No.”
She nodded weakly.
“I remember now,” she said. “And I understand… this love… it was real. It is real.”
Her voice trembled.
“But it belongs to another time.”
Kabir’s hand loosened on the shadow.
Just slightly.
Enough for doubt to slip in.
“I don’t care about time,” he said desperately.
“But I do,” she replied.
Another step closer.
“And I care about you too much… to let you become something that doesn’t belong anywhere.”
His eyes widened.
“Simri—”
She reached out.
Her fingers gently touching his face.
Just like in that memory.
In that rain.
In that final moment.
“You don’t have to stay in between worlds anymore,” she whispered.
Kabir’s breathing grew uneven.
“You’re asking me to disappear,” he said.
“I’m asking you to rest.”
The shadow let out a low hum, as if waiting.
As if this was always meant to happen.
—
Kabir looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Every detail.
Every tear.
Every trembling breath.
And slowly—
Something inside him broke.
Not in pain.
But in acceptance.
“…If I go,” he said quietly, “will you forget me again?”
Simri shook her head immediately.
“Never.”
His lips curved into a faint, soft smile.
“That’s all I needed.”
—
The moment he let go—
The shadow collapsed.
Fading.
Breaking.
Like it had no reason to exist anymore.
Because the imbalance… was gone.
—
Kabir turned back to her one last time.
The air around him was already shifting.
His form slowly becoming lighter.
Fading.
“Simri…” he whispered.
She stepped closer, her voice breaking—
“I love you.”
Kabir’s eyes softened.
“I know,” he said.
Then after a pause—
“I love you too… in every life.”
—
And then—
He disappeared.
Not suddenly.
Not violently.
But gently.
Like a whisper fading into silence.
—
The night became quiet again.
Completely quiet.
No shadows.
No voices.
No cold presence.
Just Simri.
Standing alone.
Tears falling silently.
But for the first time—
Her heart felt… still.
Not empty.
Not broken.
Just…
At peace.
—
A soft breeze passed by.
And for a brief second—
She thought she heard it again.
A whisper.
Faint.
Warm.
“Simri…”
She closed her eyes.
Smiled through her tears.
And whispered back—
“Goodbye… Kabir.”
