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Ayla stood by the kitchen counter, staring at the cup in her hands.
The tea had gone cold minutes ago, but she hadn't noticed.
Her mind was elsewhere.
On him.
On the strange pull she felt whenever Zayn was near.
On the emptiness in her memory that somehow hurt more each day.
She still couldn't remember loving him.
But lately—
she had started to understand why she once did.
Small things gave him away.
The way he quietly covered her shoulders with a blanket when she fell asleep on the couch.
The way he remembered how much sugar she liked in her tea.
The way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention.
Like she was something precious he had already lost once.
And that look—
it made her heart ache.
"Ayla?"
She turned.
Zayn stood by the doorway, loosening his tie after work.
"You're home," she said softly.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I am."
There was tiredness in his eyes, but it disappeared slightly when he saw her.
That simple reaction warmed her chest in a way she couldn't explain.
"Did you eat?" she asked.
"Not yet."
"I'll make something."
"You don't have to."
"I know," she replied quietly. "I want to."
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
Then nodded.
And somehow—
that tiny moment felt intimate.
Dinner was quiet but comfortable.
They talked about ordinary things.
The weather.
Work.
A book she had started reading.
Yet beneath every word was something unspoken.
Something growing.
After dinner, Zayn's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen—and his expression changed instantly.
Tense.
Cold.
Ayla noticed.
"Aren't you going to answer?" she asked.
He hesitated.
Then declined the call.
"It's nothing."
But she knew it wasn't.
The next day, while Zayn was at work, the doorbell rang.
Ayla opened the door.
And froze.
A beautiful woman stood there.
Elegant.
Confident.
Perfectly dressed.
Her eyes moved over Ayla slowly before a small smile appeared.
"You must be Ayla," she said.
Ayla frowned slightly.
"Yes… and you are?"
The woman extended her hand.
"My name is Elena."
Something about the name felt sharp.
Unwelcome.
"I'm an old friend of Zayn's."
Old friend.
Yet the way she said it sounded like much more.
"I was in the neighborhood," Elena continued smoothly. "I thought I'd stop by."
Ayla stepped aside politely, though something in her chest tightened.
"Come in."
Elena entered the house like she already knew it.
Like she belonged there.
Her eyes scanned the room with familiarity.
"This place hasn't changed much," she said.
Ayla's fingers curled slightly.
"You've been here before?"
"Many times."
The answer landed harder than it should have.
They sat in the living room.
Elena crossed her legs gracefully.
"I heard about your accident," she said. "Such a shame."
Ayla forced a polite smile.
"I'm recovering."
"And your memory?"
"Still gone."
Elena tilted her head.
"How unfortunate."
The words were kind.
But her tone wasn't.
Then she leaned back and said casually—
"You know… Zayn and I were almost engaged once."
The room went silent.
Ayla's heart stopped for a second.
"What?"
Elena smiled softly.
"Oh… he didn't tell you?"
Ayla tried to keep her expression calm.
"No."
Elena sighed dramatically.
"Well, it was years ago. Families wanted it. We were very close."
Every word felt deliberate.
Sharp.
Calculated.
"And now?" Ayla asked quietly.
Elena's eyes glittered.
"Some things never fully end."
The front door opened.
Zayn walked in.
The moment he saw Elena, his face hardened instantly.
"What are you doing here?"
Elena stood elegantly.
"Is that how you greet an old friend?"
"I asked you a question."
His voice was colder than Ayla had ever heard.
Elena gave a small laugh.
"I came to check on Ayla."
"You need to leave."
Ayla looked between them.
The tension was undeniable.
Elena turned to her with fake sweetness.
"It was lovely meeting you."
Then she looked at Zayn.
"We'll talk soon."
"No," he said sharply. "We won't."
She smiled as if amused, then walked out.
The door closed behind her.
Silence exploded through the room.
Ayla turned slowly toward him.
"You were almost engaged?"
Zayn rubbed a hand over his face.
"It was never real."
"But it happened."
"It was family pressure," he said. "Nothing more."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
His jaw tightened.
"Because it meant nothing."
"It clearly meant enough for her to come here."
The pain in her voice surprised both of them.
Zayn stepped closer.
"Ayla—"
"Did you love her?"
The question came out before she could stop it.
His eyes locked on hers.
"Never."
The answer was immediate.
Raw.
Certain.
Then he added quietly—
"I only ever loved one woman."
Her breath caught.
The room felt smaller.
Hotter.
"Who?" she whispered.
He looked at her like the answer should have been obvious.
"You."
Her heartbeat pounded wildly.
"But I don't remember—"
"I know," he said softly. "But I do."
Those words shattered something inside her.
Because he remembered enough for both of them.
And she remembered nothing.
Tears filled her eyes before she realized it.
"I hate this," she whispered.
"Hate what?"
"That you love someone who doesn't even remember loving you back."
Zayn crossed the distance between them.
Without hesitation, he cupped her face gently.
"Then remember this instead," he said.
"What?"
"That I'm still here."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"And if I never remember?"
His thumb brushed the tear away.
"Then I'll make you fall for me again."
Her chest broke open with emotion.
Because somehow—
she believed him.
That night, Ayla stood alone by the window.
Elena's words echoed in her mind.
Almost engaged.
Old friend.
Very close.
But louder than all of it—
was Zayn's voice.
I only ever loved one woman. You.
Her hand moved to her chest.
Why did that hurt so much?
Why did it feel true?
And why—
did she suddenly feel terrified of losing something she couldn't even remember having?
What do you think? 🤔
Will Ayla's feelings return before Elena destroys their fragile bond… or is someone from Zayn's past about to change everything? 👀💔