Aira realized something that night.
Just because Reyhan didn't talk about it—
didn't mean it wasn't sitting somewhere inside him, heavy and unresolved.
They walked in silence after Mira left.
Not awkward silence.
Not angry silence.
The kind that existed because too much had been said… and too much hadn't.
"You okay?" Aira asked finally.
Reyhan nodded automatically.
Then paused.
"…I think so."
That hesitation mattered.
Aira slowed her steps. "That didn't sound convincing."
He gave a small huff of a laugh. "I didn't think it would."
They stopped near the stairs, the campus almost empty now.
Reyhan leaned against the railing, staring at nothing in particular.
"She wasn't wrong," he said quietly.
Aira didn't rush to deny it.
"She wasn't completely right either," she replied.
He glanced at her. "You don't even know what she meant."
"I know enough," Aira said gently.
"She meant that when things get heavy… you don't always know how to stay."
Reyhan's jaw tightened.
"That doesn't make you a bad person," she continued.
"It just means you were dealing with things alone."
Reyhan looked away.
"That's easier."
"For who?" Aira asked softly.
He didn't answer.
Because they both knew the truth.
"For everyone else."
Aira stepped closer—not touching him, but grounding the space between them.
"You don't have to be over your past to move forward," she said.
"You just have to stop pretending it didn't shape you."
Reyhan exhaled slowly.
"I'm scared," he admitted, voice low.
"Not of you. Of messing this up."
Aira's chest tightened.
"Then don't decide the ending before it happens," she replied.
"Let me decide when something hurts."
Reyhan finally looked at her.
Really looked.
"You're not scared of me leaving?" he asked.
"I am," Aira said honestly.
"But I'm more scared of building something based on fear."
That landed.
Hard.
Reyhan straightened slightly, like something inside him had been challenged—not attacked.
"You don't know how to be half-in," he said.
"I know," Aira replied.
"That's why I'm not asking you to promise forever."
He frowned. "Then what are you asking?"
She met his eyes, steady.
"Just don't disappear when things get quiet."
Reyhan swallowed.
"I can do that," he said slowly.
"I don't know how to do it perfectly… but I can try."
Aira smiled faintly.
"That's all I wanted."
They stood there for a moment longer.
No touching.
No dramatic words.
Just honesty settling between them.
When they finally started walking again, Reyhan spoke softly—
"Thank you… for not assuming I was already healed."
Aira glanced at him.
"Thank you," she replied,
"for not pretending you were."
They reached the corner where they usually parted.
Aira stopped.
Reyhan did too.
"Tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
Aira nodded.
"Tomorrow."
And for the first time, neither of them wondered if that was a promise or a risk.
It was just… real.
RULE #35: Don't assume Reyhan Malhotra is over it.
Because healing doesn't erase the past—
it teaches you how to carry it without running.