ECHOES OF PAST

The sound of champagne glasses clinking felt like a bad joke. I was standing in the middle of the ballroom, dressed in the red dress Evan had picked for me, surrounded by people who didn't even know my name. All they cared about was him.

Evan Grayson. Golden boy. Charming smile. Liar.

He was standing a few feet away, holding a glass of whiskey and laughing like everything was perfect.

His hand was resting on Emma Lancaster's lower back like it had every right to be there.

I stared at that hand. The same hand that used to hold me at night. The same hand that promised me forever.

Laughter bubbled up in my throat,

but it didn't sound like me. It sounded cracked and broken.

Ten years of my life. Ten years of being his shadow, his quiet supporter, the woman behind the scenes.

I gave him my heart, my body, my time. He gave me lies. "Aria," Lena hissed beside me. She grabbed my arm, squeezing it.

"Don't do anything stupid." "Stupid?" I whispered. "I've been doing stupid for ten years." Her eyes flicked toward Evan and back to me. "Aria, this isn't the place."

I looked down at the engagement ring on Emma's finger. It sparkled under the lights like it was mocking me. Ten years together, and he had never proposed to me. Not once.

But he had been with her for six months, and now she was wearing my dream on her hand. Lena exhaled through her nose. "Please, don't make a scene."

I tilted my head and smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. "No, Lena. I'm done being quiet."

Before she could stop me, I crossed the room. My heels clicked on the marble floor, and heads began to turn. People whispered.

Evan turned just as I reached him. The smile froze on his face."Aria," he said, too calm, like he wasn't standing next to the woman he'd betrayed me with. "What are you doing here?"

I leaned in close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore for special occasions. The kind he used when he wanted to impress.

"You invited me, remember?" My voice was sweet, almost too sweet. Emma blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Evan, who is she?"

My chest burned, but I forced the corners of my mouth upward. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm just the

woman who's been living with him for the last ten years."

A ripple of gasps spread through the nearby crowd. Evan's jaw tightened. "Aria, don't start.

"Start?" I laughed. "Evan, I'm not

starting. You already started when you told me you loved me while buying an engagement ring for someone else."

His face shifted into something colder. "This isn't the time."

"Of course it is," I said. "You owe me that much."

Emma wrapped her arm around his, like she was claiming him in front of

me. "This is pathetic," she said softly. "You should leave."

I turned to her, and for a second, I almost pitied her. She thought she was winning. She had no idea she was standing next to a man who could smile into your eyes while stabbing you in the back.

"No, Emma. Pathetic is giving ten years to a man who promised you forever and finding out forever means nothing."

Security started moving toward us. I could hear Lena calling my name.

but I couldn't stop. The words poured out like someone had torn the dam open. "I wasted ten years," I said, looking straight at Evan.

"And for what? So you could throw me away like trash?" His voice dropped low enough so only I could hear.

"Aria, walk away." I stared at him. That calm, warning tone was the same one he'd used every time he wanted me to shrink.

Not tonight. I stepped even closer, my face inches from his. "I loved you. You said you'd marry me." His expression didn't even flicker. "I lied." Something inside me snapped.

Just like that. A clean break. Ten years of love turned to ash. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just smiled. "Then I hope she's worth it," I whispered.

Security finally reached me, but before they could touch me, Evan put a hand on my arm, dragging me toward a side hallway.

He smiled at the guests like everything was fine, like we weren't falling apart behind the curtains.

He pushed the door open to a quiet

corridor and shut it behind us. The

noise from the ballroom disappeared.

"Aria," he said, low and sharp. "You

just embarrassed me in front of

everyone."

I jerked my arm out of his grip.

"Good. You deserved it."

His jaw clenched. "You don't

understand. Emma's father-"

"I don't care about Emma's father!"

My voice cracked. "You promised

me everything."

He laughed then. A short, cruel sound. "You really thought I was going to marry you?"

The hallway tilted slightly. I grabbed the wall to stay steady. "Yes," Iwhispered.

"Aria," he said, almost gently. "You were never more than a comfortable option. You made things easy. But Emma gives me more than you ever could."

The words hit harder than any slap. I had loved him since I was nineteen. I gave him everything.

"You're a monster," I said. "And you're a fool," he answered.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver keycard.

"I'm not letting you ruin this for me. You're going to disappear quietly.

I'll make sure you get something to live on. That's generous." I stared at him. "Generous? You used me for a decade."

He moved closer, lowering his voice. "If you walk away now, I'll make it painless."

Something in his eyes made my

blood turn cold. This wasn't just

about breaking up. There was

something darker lurking beneath

his calm face.

"Painless?" I repeated. "What are

you talking about?"

He tilted his head, almost like he

was bored. "Let's not pretend you

can survive without me. It'll be easier if you don't make this messy."

For the first time, I felt fear creep up my spine. Evan wasn't threatening me out of anger. He was calm, calculated and dangerous.

"Evan," I said slowly. "What are you planning?"

He leaned in close, his breath hot

against my ear. "You'll find out soon

enough."

I stumbled back. "You wouldn't." "Wouldn't I?" He smiled. It wasn't the smile I fell in love with. It was cold, sharp and empty.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and I realized with a sick twist in my stomach that we were completely alone.

The party music was just a dull hum behind the heavy door.

I turned toward the exit, but his hand shot out, gripping my wrist.

"Don't."

"Let me go," I hissed. "Aria, listen to me. You don't get to ruin my life just because you're

bitter."

"Bitter?" I laughed, but it came out shaky. "You ruined mine."

He slammed me against the wall. Not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough to remind me of the strength I'd ignored all these years.

His face was inches from mine, his eyes dark.

"You don't get it," he whispered. "I can't let you walk away."

My heartbeat roared in my ears. I shoved at his chest, but his grip tightened.

"Evan, stop," I said, louder this time. "You should have stayed quiet," he murmured.

For a second, I saw the man I'd once loved, hidden under all that cruelty. But then he pulled something shiny from his pocket.

My breath caught. A knife. It wasn't big, but it was enough. I froze. "Evan..."

He didn't blink. "You should have walked away."

I pushed him hard, but he pinned me back again. Panic clawed at my throat. He wasn't bluffing. I could see it in his eyes. "Evan, please," I whispered.

His mouth twisted. "Goodbye, Aria."

The pain came fast and hot. My knees buckled, and the hallway blurred. I slid down the wall, my hand pressing against the warm blood spreading across my stomach. He crouched in front of me, almost tenderly, like this was some mercy.

"Don't take it personally," he said softly. "You were never part of the future."

The world tilted. I heard footsteps, or maybe they were just in my head.

His face faded in and out like a bad dream. Somewhere far away, someone was calling my name. Lena. She must have followed. But her voice grew faint. Everything did. The ceiling spun, and then... silence.

Right before the darkness swallowed me, I heard a whisper. It wasn't Lena. It wasn't Evan. It was something else. Soft. Cold. Close to my ear.

Do it over. My eyes fluttered shut. The last thing I saw was Evan's face, calm and empty as I slipped into the dark. And then... I gasped. I was in my bed. In our apartment.

Evan's arm was around my waist. The clock on the nightstand said 6:12 a.m. And the man who killed me was breathing softly beside me.

The first thing I feel is warmth. A heavy, familiar weight draped over my waist. A soft breath against my neck. For a moment, I almost convince myself it's just another nightmare. But nightmares don't feel this real.

My eyes snap open.

The ceiling above me isn't the white sterile hospital ceiling I expected.

It's the pale beige ceiling of our old apartment. The one we lived in years ago, when I still believed Evan and I had a future. The curtains flutter in the soft morning breeze from the cracked window. The cheap clock on the nightstand ticks steadily, just like it did when we couldn't afford anything better.

My heart slams against my ribs.

Evan's arm is wrapped tightly around me, his chest pressed against my back. His breathing is slow, even. He's asleep.

I don't move. I can't. I just stare at the wall, trying to understand how I went from bleeding on the floor of a ball room to this. No, this isn't real. I shift slightly, testing the weight of his arm. His hand twitches but doesn't let go. His scent fills my nose-the same warm cologne he used back then, the one I begged him to stop wearing years later because it made me dizzy.

I turn my head slowly. His face is right there. Peaceful. Beautiful. The same face I loved for ten years and hated in the last ten minutes of my life.

Evan. Alive. Breathing. Sleeping like he hadn't just killed me. A tiny, hysterical laugh escapes my throat.

His eyelids flutter open. Warm brown eyes meet mine. He smiles, the lazy morning smile that used to make my heart melt.

"Morning," he mumbles, voice still rough with sleep, my throat goes dry.

"What's wrong?" he asks, noticing my stiff body. He leans forward to kiss my cheek like nothing's wrong.

"You look like you saw a ghost."

I flinch before he touches me. His brows knit together. "Hey. What's going on?"

I shove his arm off and sit up. My hands are trembling. My breath comes out in shallow bursts.

"Aria," he says, sitting up too. "Talk to me."

I scramble out of bed. My feet hit the cold wooden floor. Everything around me is wrong. Or maybe too right. The room is exactly the way it was years ago. The ugly lamp we found at the thrift store. The tiny wardrobe with its squeaky door. The framed picture of us on the nightstand. My stomach twists.

This is the past.

"How did I get here?" I whisper.

Evan frowns. "What are you talking about? You've been here all night.

You came home late, but you were fine."

I stare at him like I don't know him. Because I don't. Not this version.

This is the man before the mask slipped.

"Aria," he says carefully, "did you have a nightmare?"

A nightmare. Sure. That's easier than the truth.

"Yeah," I say weakly. "Something like that."

He reaches for me, and I automatically take a step back. His hand falls to his lap, and something flickers across his face. Irritation.

That old, familiar look I ignored for years.

"What's going on with you?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Nothing. I just need a minute"

I hurry into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn white. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror.

I expect blood. A wound. Something. But my skin is smooth.

My hair is longer, the way it was years ago. There are no bruises, no bloodstains on my shirt.

I lift my wrist. The thin gold bracelet I lost six years ago glints under the bathroom light.

My breath catches. I lean closer to the mirror. The woman staring back at me isn't the one who died last night. She's younger. Softer. Her eyes don't have the lines carved by ten years of disappointment.

"Oh my god," I whisper.

I look at the calendar stuck to the wall. A cheap cat calendar Evan's mom gave us. The date hits me like a punch.

May 17th.

Ten years earlier.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but when I open them again, the numbers don't change. The mirror doesn't lie.

I really came back.

The sound of Evan's voice through the door makes me jump. "Aria? Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," I say too quickly.

"You're acting weird," he says. "Did something happen at work?" Work. At this time, I was still a junior assistant at that marketing firm. Still naïve. Still stupidly in love.

I press my hand against my chest. It's pounding too fast.

"I'm fine," I repeat. Silence follows, then I hear him moving around the room. I know his routine by heart. He'll make coffee, complain about the rent, flirt with me like he's not sleeping with someone else behind my back.

But right now... he isn't. Not yet. I step out of the bathroom slowly. Evan's already dressed in a gray Tshirt and jeans, his hair messy in that annoyingly perfect way. He's scrolling through his phone. He looks up when he sees me.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks.

"You look pale." I force a smile. "I'm fine." He narrows his eyes, like he's trying to read my mind. He can't. But I can read his.

Except... I can't, can I? That was just a weird whisper before I died. But something inside me stirs. A sharp, clear thought that isn't mine slices through the silence.

She looks weird today. Did she find out about that thing with Jason? Nah. She's too trusting.

I freeze.

My gaze snaps to Evan. His lips didn't move. But I heard his voice. Not out loud. In my head.

Oh my god. I take a step back. "What?" he asks, frowning. "Nothing," I whisper. Another thought. This one lazier, smug. Gotta get her to stop nagging about the trip. If she pushes, I'll tell her we can't afford it. She'll drop it. She always does.

I swallow hard. My heart is hammering against my ribs. I can hear him. I can hear what he's thinking.

"Aria?"

"I need air," I say quickly, grabbing my sweater.

He follows me to the door. "We're supposed to have breakfast together. Remember?"

I spin around. He's smiling at me like he used to. Like the man I loved. But now, under that smile, I hear it. She's cute when she's upset. It's like a slap. I can see him clearly now. Not the mask. Not the carefully painted charm. The truth. "I'll be back," I say, and push past him before I throw up.

The morning air hits me as I step outside. The neighborhood looks exactly like it did ten years ago. The peeling paint on the bakery's wall.

The cracked pavement in front of Mrs. Patterson's fence. The world smells like fresh bread and car exhaust.

I walk fast, hugging myself, trying to keep my head from spinning. This is real. I died. I woke up here. And I can hear thoughts. The man jogging across the street is thinking about how late he is.

The old lady waiting for the bus is worried she left the stove on. A teenage boy on his bike is singing a rap song in his head, badly.

I press my palms against my ears, but it doesn't help.

The voices are still there. A flood of unfiltered thoughts. It's overwhelming. "Shut up," I whisper. "Please, shut up." And just like that, the noise dulls. Not gone, but softer. Manageable. Like turning the volume down. I take a deep breath. Okay. I can control this. Maybe. I wander toward the park down the street, the one where Evan and I used to sit with cheap coffee and big dreams. I collapse onto the old

bench and stare at the empty playground.

Ten years. I have ten years before everything goes wrong. Ten years before he betrays me, before he tries to kill me.

This time, I'm not going to waste them. I lean back, letting the cool air fill my lungs. I should feel broken. Terrified but there's a strange calm settling in my chest.

For the first time in years, I'm ahead of him. I hear footsteps crunching on the path. A man walks by, tall, dark suit, expensive shoes.

He passes me without looking, but when he does, his gaze flicks toward me for a split second. My heart stutters.

I reach out with that strange new sense, expecting to hear his thoughts too. But there's nothing. No sound. No noise. Just silence.

I sit up straighter, following him with my eyes. I can hear everyone else around me. But not him.

Who the hell is he?

He stops at the end of the path, glances back once, and then walks away. The silence around him is louder than the crowd in my head.

I grip the edge of the bench. I don't know who he is. But something in my gut tells me this isn't a coincidence.

I stare at the spot where he disappeared, my pulse racing. Ten years ago, I had no power. No choices.

Now I have both. And someone just noticed me. A cold wind blows through the park, and I swear I hear a faint whisper again, the same one that came before I died.

Time is ticking, Aria. My blood runs cold.

When I walk back into the apartment, Evan is standing in the kitchen shirtless, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee.

Sunlight spills through the window, catching on his skin, making him look like the man I used to love. It would have made me weak once.

Now, all I see is a liar wrapped in soft morning light.

"You disappeared," he says, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we were having breakfast." I close the door behind me and hang my sweater on the hook. My voice is steady when I say, "I needed some air."

His eyes narrow slightly, like he's looking for cracks in my words.

"You're acting weird." Weird? Yeah, dying and waking up ten years in the past will do that to you.

I force a small laugh. "Sorry. Bad dream. I needed to clear my head."

He studies me for a few seconds before nodding, pretending he's buying it. His thoughts slide into my head like someone's whispering in my ear. She's moody today. Must be that time of the month.

I'll just charm her later. I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. If only he knew the storm brewing inside me. I step closer, pretending nothing's wrong, pretending I'm still the girl who trusted him. That girl was easy to control. This one isn't.

I brush my fingers over his arm as I pass him. "Coffee smells good."

He grins, smug. "I know. I make the best coffee." I want to punch that grin right off his face. Instead, I open the fridge.

"Are you working late tonight?"

He shrugs. "Probably. Big meeting tomorrow. You know how it is.

I know exactly how it is. He's probably already flirting with his coworker at this point in the timeline. Back then, I pretended not to notice. This time, I'll notice everything.

I grab an apple from the fridge. He watches me, leaning back like he owns the room. Technically, back then, he did.

I paid half the bills, but he always acted like it was his apartment. He loved control. Loved power. I used to let him have it. Not anymore.

"You're quiet," he says.

"I'm just tired," I answer, biting into the apple. His thoughts hum through my mind again. She'll be fine later. I'll take her out tomorrow.

She loves that little diner. Cheap date, easy points. I almost choke on the apple. Cheap date, easy points.

I used to think those dates were special. I used to think he looked at me like I was his world. All the while, he was keeping score like love was a game.

I look up at him with a sweet smile.

"I'd like that."

His smile widens. Of course you would. I'm going to enjoy destroying you, Evan.

Later that afternoon, Lena calls. Hearing her voice nearly breaks me. She sounds so young. So full of life. Back then, she was my closest friend.

The only one who ever questioned if Evan was really as perfect as I claimed.

"Are we still on for lunch?" she asks through the phone.

"Yeah," I say softly. "I'll meet you at the usual spot."

"The usual spot" is a small café downtown. The same one where she once warned me not to give.

Evan everything. I ignored her. Now, I want to hug her.

The café looks exactly like I remember. Worn-out wooden tables, the smell of burnt coffee beans, and the constant hum of people trying to sound interesting.

Lena is already at a corner table, waving when she sees me. Her hair is shorter, and her face is brighter.

She hasn't gone through the storm yet. Not like me.

"Hey, stranger," she says when I sitdown. "You look... different."

I laugh. "Different good or different bad?"

"Different like you've seen somethings," she says, narrowing her eyes.

"What happened?"

How do I tell her that I died last night and woke up ten years earlier with a power I can't fully control? I stir my iced coffee instead. "Just a bad dream."

She gives me a look. "A dream?"

"Yeah. One of those real ones." She leans forward. "Let me guess. Evan died and you inherited all his money?"

I grin despite myself. "Close." She laughs, then her smile fades a little. "Seriously, though. I've always thought he was too smooth." I raise an eyebrow. "Too smooth?"

She lowers her voice. "You know. Charming. Too charming. Like a salesman. I keep waiting for the part where he tries to sell me a timeshare."

Her thoughts slide into my head before she finishes the sentence. He's hot, but he gives me weird vibes. I hope she never gets hurt.

My throat tightens. If only she knew what would happen years from now. If only she knew how right she was.

"Lena," I say quietly, "thank you."

"For what?"

"For always being honest."

She blinks, surprised. "That's new. Usually you get defensive." Yeah. I used to defend him like a fool. I sigh. "Maybe I should have listened more."

She leans back. "Uh-oh. Did you guys fight?"

I shake my head. "No. Not yet." "Not yet?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. I shrug. "Just a feeling." She studies me for a moment.

"You're weird today. But like... a good weird."

I smile. "Thanks, I guess." We talk for another hour. It's normal and warm, and for a second, I let myself forget the blood, the knife, the way Evan's eyes looked as I bled out. I just laugh with my best friend.

I missed this.

But the world has a way of reminding me what's real. As I'm walking home, I hear it again.

That voice.

A sharp whisper right next to my ear, too soft for anyone else to hear.

He's already planning his first lie. I freeze on the sidewalk. People pass me without a glance. The whisper fades, but my heart won't slow down.

Evan's sitting on the couch when I get home, scrolling through his phone. He doesn't even look up when I step in.

"Hey," he says. "Where'd you go?"

"Lunch with Lena," I answer.

He gives a short nod. His thoughts slide into my head again. I should text Sarah later. She always replies fast. It's easy with her.

Sarah. The name twists in my chest. I remember that name. I'd found texts on his phone two years after this point. He said it was nothing. I believed him. Stupid.

I keep my face calm. "I was thinking we could go out tomorrow night."

He finally looks at me, surprised.

"Really?"

I nod. "Yeah. Just us."

His smile spreads slowly. She's finally acting normal.

"Sure," he says. "We'll go wherever you want."

"Great."

I walk into the bedroom before he can say anything else. I need a second to breathe. To plan.

He thinks he's already won. He thinks I'm the same Aria who will swallow every excuse, forgive every sin, and look the other way because I love him. But I'm not her anymore.

This time, I'll let him think I'm soft.

I'll let him underestimate me. And when he falls, it'll be hard and loud.

That night, I lie in bed beside him.

He's asleep, breathing softly. I stare at the ceiling, replaying every thought I'd heard today. Every lie he hasn't even told me yet. Every betrayal that's still waiting in the shadows.

I close my eyes and focus on the noise in my head. It's getting easier to control now, like tuning a radio.

I can focus on one person at a time. Block out the rest. The only thing I can't control is the silence I felt earlier today.

That man in the park. I turn onto my side, away from Evan.

I can still see the man's face in my mind. Sharp jaw. Black suit. A quiet that didn't feel like absence but power. Everyone else is an open book. He's a locked safe.

Why him?

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it quickly so Evan doesn't stir. An unknown number flashes on the screen. One new message.

Nice day for a second chance, isn't it?

My breath catches.

Another buzz. Second message.

Enjoy the game, Aria. It's just getting started.

I stare at the glowing screen, my hands cold. I don't know this number. I don't know this person. But someone out there knows exactly what happened to me.

I glance at Evan. He's still asleep. Peaceful. Unaware. I type a quick reply.

Who are you? Three dots appear instantly, like they've been waiting.

You'll find out soon. Don't die too early this time.

I drop the phone. My pulse races in my throat. This isn't just some random miracle. Someone's behind this. Someone who's watching me.

The air in the room suddenly feels heavier. I reach for the curtain and peek outside. The street is quiet.The lamplight spills over the pavement.

And right across the street, leaning against a lamppost like he's been there all night, is the man in the black suit.

He looks up. Our eyes lock.

The silence around him presses against me like a hand on my chest.

Then, slowly, he lifts his phone to his ear.

Mine buzzes again.

Run.