Aisha had never liked silence, especially the kind that wrapped around her like a heavy blanket—thick, suffocating, and full of questions no one wanted to answer.
The penthouse had been quiet all evening, too quiet for a home shared by two people. Aarav had barely spoken during dinner. He had simply sat across from her, eating with a calmness that looked rehearsed, as if he had practiced the motions for years without truly tasting anything.
But it was his eyes that bothered her.
Dark. Deep. And strangely… empty.
As if someone had wiped away his past and left him to function on instinct alone.
She knew he had lost his memories.
But she also knew people with no memories shouldn't look haunted.
---
Hours later, Aisha lay awake in the massive bedroom—new, unfamiliar, and too cold for comfort. The expensive silk sheets felt luxurious but lonely. Even the city lights spilling through the curtains looked like they didn't belong to her.
She turned on her side.
Aarav was sleeping on the couch, just like he promised.
Except… he wasn't asleep.
She could hear it—his breathing wasn't slow or even. It was uneven, shallow… almost pained.
"Is he having a nightmare?" she whispered to herself.
Aisha sat up. For a long moment she debated whether to check on him or leave him alone. They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends. They were two strangers bound by a contract neither of them fully understood.
But her heart tugged anyway.
She quietly stepped out of bed and walked toward the living room.
Aarav lay on the couch, his jaw tight, his forehead beaded with sweat. His hand twitched as if reaching for something—or someone.
"Aarav?" she whispered softly.
No response.
She leaned closer. "Aarav… wake up. You're dreaming."
His eyes snapped open—not confused, not startled, but alert. Trained. Sharp.
The kind of alertness that didn't belong to someone who worked in a corporate office.
He sat up quickly, breath heavy. "Did I disturb you?"
"No," she said gently. "You were having a nightmare."
He looked away. "I don't remember my dreams."
"Not even this one?"
"No."
His hands trembled for a moment before he hid them under the blanket.
Aisha sat down on the edge of the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He gave a faint, hollow smile. "I don't have anything to talk about."
Then, more quietly—
"I don't remember enough to have stories."
Her heart tightened. How lonely must that be?
She placed a hand on his arm. "You're not alone now."
He looked at her hand before lifting his eyes to hers, something soft flickering in them—something dangerously close to longing.
"You should sleep," he murmured.
"So should you."
He nodded. "Goodnight, Aisha."
"Goodnight, Aarav."
She returned to the bedroom, but sleep remained distant. Her mind replayed the look in his eyes—the silent fear, the hidden ache, the unspoken questions.
What kind of past haunted a man who couldn't even remember it?
---
It was almost 3 a.m. when Aisha finally began drifting into sleep.
Until she heard it.
Thud.
A sharp, sudden sound echoing from the hallway.
She sat up instantly. The noise came again.
Thud… thud…
Like someone knocking from inside a wall.
No—inside a door.
She slipped out of bed, heart pounding. The penthouse was dark except for the dim moonlight. She walked toward the hallway, cold air brushing against her skin.
Thud.
This time, clearer.
It came from one place.
The locked door Aarav told her never to open.
Her breath hitched.
She pressed her ear against it.
At first, nothing.
Then—
A whisper.
Soft. Broken. Terrifying.
"Aarav…"
Aisha jerked back, hand flying to her mouth.
A human voice. A woman's voice.
Faint but unmistakable.
Her pulse thundered wildly.
"Hello?" she whispered before she even realized she spoke.
Silence.
Then—
"Aarav… don't leave me…"
Chills shot through her body.
She stumbled back, heart racing. She wanted to scream, to run, to wake Aarav. But her voice was locked in her throat.
The woman behind the door whispered again, weaker this time—
"Aarav… help…"
Aisha stepped away trembling, her back hitting the wall.
Is someone locked inside?
Is this why the door stays closed?
Is this his past?
And the worst thought of all—
Did Aarav lie?
Her knees shook. She ran to the living room where Aarav lay asleep.
"Aarav!" she whispered loudly, shaking his shoulder.
He woke immediately. Not groggily—instantly, like someone trained for emergencies.
"What happened?" he asked, gaze sharp.
"The door!" she gasped. "I heard something… someone! A woman! She was calling your name—"
Aarav stood up so abruptly she stepped back.
His jaw clenched. His expression turned unreadable.
"Show me," he said.
She led him to the hallway, trembling. But when they reached the door…
Silence.
No knocks.
No voice.
Nothing.
Aarav placed his hand on the door, eyes darkening. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"
"I wasn't dreaming!" she snapped. "There was a woman calling your name!"
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Aisha… there is no one in this penthouse except us."
"Then explain the voice!"
He didn't answer.
For a moment, the hallway felt colder. Larger. Hollow.
Aisha stared at him. "Aarav… what's inside this room?"
His eyes drifted to hers—full of caution, fear, and a strange sadness.
"I told you before," he said quietly.
"My past."
Her breath caught. "And you won't tell me why a woman is calling for you from behind it?"
He closed his eyes briefly, as if fighting a war inside his own mind.
Then he stepped closer, lifting a hand to her cheek—gentle, reassuring, almost protective.
"Aisha," he said softly, "no matter what you think you heard… you're safe with me."
"But that's not an answer."
"No," he whispered, "it isn't."
He took her hands in his, holding them firmly.
"You promised you wouldn't open this door. Please… keep that promise."
His voice trembled slightly.
Not with anger.
With fear.
Fear of what, she didn't know.
Fear of who, she didn't know either.
Her heart pounded painfully.
She wanted to trust him.
She also wanted the truth.
"Fine," she whispered. "I won't open it."
He nodded slowly, relieved. "Thank you."
Aarav gently guided her back to the bedroom.
"Try to sleep," he said softly.
"How can I sleep after that?" she whispered back.
He hesitated for a moment—then stepped inside with her.
"I'll sit with you until you do."
Her heartbeat stuttered. "Why?"
He looked at her with an expression that made her chest tighten.
"Because for the first time…"
He paused, voice dropping to a whisper.
"I don't want you to be scared of me."
Aisha swallowed hard, sinking onto the bed. Aarav sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance but close enough that his presence made her breath uneven.
The room grew quiet again.
But not peaceful.
Not after the whisper behind the door.
Not after realizing the man beside her might be more dangerous, more broken, and more mysterious than she ever imagined.
And yet…
She didn't want him to leave.
She wasn't sure if it was fear, instinct, or something far more dangerous—something close to desire.
Aarav leaned his head back, eyes closing.
"Aarav," she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Who was she?"
His eyes opened slowly.
And for the first time, she saw it—
Something flickered in his gaze.
Guilt.
"I don't know," he whispered.
"But I'm afraid… you might be remembering her better than I can."
Aisha's breath froze.
Because that meant one thing:
The voice wasn't just real.
It belonged to a woman from Aarav's past—
A past he had forgotten…
And a past that clearly hadn't forgotten him.