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Serena’s perfume still lingered in the air long after she left.Mira hated that.It felt like a mark—like proof that the past never really leaves, it just learns better timing.Aarav poured two glasses of water, his movements quiet, deliberate. No words. No explanations. Just space.Mira took the glass but didn’t drink.“So,” she said finally, “this is what your enemies look like.”Aarav leaned against the counter.“She’s not just an enemy,” he said. “She’s someone who knows where to strike.”Mira nodded slowly.“At people.”“At feelings,” he corrected.That landed heavier.Mira walked toward him, stopping just short of touching distance.“You don’t get to fight this alone,”