There are some things that feel like dreams at first.
But when you check them again… and again…
they stop feeling like dreams.
They turn into warnings.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping the edge of the sink with both hands. My fingers trembled slightly, but my eyes—my eyes were calm. It was strange. A storm raged inside me, yet my face reflected nothing at all.
This was real.
I was in the past.
And this was real too—
I remembered everything.
The marriage.
The love.
The lies.
The betrayal.
The ICU bed.
The final breath.
All of it.
I splashed cold water on my face. The chill sharpened my thoughts, grounding me further in reality. When I looked at myself again, disbelief flickered across my mind.
Was this really me?
Was this the same Aarohi who apologized for everything—even when it wasn't her fault?
The same Aarohi who broke her own boundaries just to keep others comfortable?
The same Aarohi who mortgaged her self-respect in the name of love?
No.
That Aarohi was gone.
She had died once…
and the woman standing here had been reborn.
"Calm down," I whispered to myself.
"Emotions later. Planning first."
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.
The house was exactly the same.
Every corner, every piece of furniture—untouched by time. In the living room, my mother sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, while my father stood near the window, sipping his morning tea. The moment they noticed me, identical smiles bloomed on their faces.
"Awake already, my princess?" my mother asked warmly.
Princess.
That single word tightened my throat.
My mother.
My father.
In my previous life, I had barely made time for them. I had pushed every relationship aside for Karan. And when I needed them the most… I had been far away.
Too far.
"Mom," my voice trembled despite my efforts.
I walked straight to her and wrapped my arms tightly around her. She froze for a second, surprised.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" she asked, half amused.
My father chuckled. "Looks like someone had a nice dream."
A dream?
Yes.
A dream that ended with my death.
"No," I said softly, pulling back.
"I just… felt like it."
I studied their faces carefully. Alive. Safe. Smiling.
This time…
I would fix everything.
As we sat down for breakfast, the memory struck me.
Today.
Today was the day.
The day Karan Malhotra officially entered my life.
The college seminar.
The guest speaker.
The young entrepreneur.
Charming. Confident.
And me?
I had fallen for him at first sight.
How predictable I had been.
"Aren't you going to college today?" my mother asked.
I picked up my spoon and replied casually, "I will. Just a bit late."
Going late was important.
I couldn't afford to make the same mistake again.
The college campus buzzed with its usual chaos—students rushing around, coffee cups in hand, books tucked under arms, laughter echoing across the corridors.
Outside the seminar hall, a massive banner hung proudly:
"SUCCESS AT 25: A STORY OF PASSION & POWER"
Guest Speaker: Karan Malhotra
I looked at the banner and smiled faintly.
Power.
Yes, he had power.
And it was this very power he had used to kill me.
But this time…
the meaning of power had changed.
I entered the hall and took a seat in the back rows. I didn't need the front seat to be impressed anymore.
The lights dimmed.
And then—
He walked onto the stage.
Tall.
Perfectly tailored suit.
Confident stride.
The same Karan.
The same smile.
The same charm that drove people crazy.
The hall erupted in applause.
"Good morning, everyone," his voice was smooth and practiced.
"I'm here to tell you that success has no shortcuts."
Shortcut.
A bitter thought echoed in my mind.
Your shortcut to success was my death.
He spoke about dreams.
Hard work.
Ethics.
Every word sounded like a lie.
I observed him carefully—the calculated movements, the controlled expressions, the cold intelligence behind his eyes.
After the lecture came the Q&A session.
In my previous life, I had nervously raised my hand, asking a question just to catch his attention.
But today…
I stayed silent.
At the end, Karan announced, "Anyone who wants to interact personally can meet me outside."
Students practically rushed toward him.
I didn't move.
I knew something they didn't—
he would notice me on his own.
And I was right.
As I stood up and walked toward the exit, a voice stopped me.
"Excuse me."
I paused and turned slowly.
Karan stood there.
Close.
Too close.
Curiosity flickered in his eyes.
"I noticed you inside," he said.
"You were listening very carefully."
I kept my expression neutral.
"Is that a crime?"
He laughed softly. "No. It's rare."
Rare.
In my past life, that word had felt like a compliment.
In this life…
it was a warning.
"I'm Karan," he said, extending his hand.
I stared at it.
The same hand that had left me alone in the ICU.
Still, I shook it.
"Aarohi," I replied.
"Nice seminar."
"Just nice?" His eyebrows rose slightly.
I smiled.
"I don't consider overconfidence a sign of success."
For a split second, shock crossed his face.
Just one second.
Then the smile returned.
"Interesting," he said.
"You're different."
Yes.
Very different.
"Differences are memorable," I replied calmly.
"Good luck, Mr. Malhotra."
And without looking back, I walked away.
With every step, I knew—
I had entered his mind.
Inside the car, my breathing finally quickened.
This wasn't easy.
But it was necessary.
I took out my phone.
A new number blinked on the screen.
Unknown Number
Message:
I think we'll meet again, Aarohi.
I stared at the screen for a moment.
Then I typed:
Maybe. Or maybe not.
Send.
Block.
I placed the phone aside and closed my eyes.
The game had begun.
But this wasn't a game of love anymore.
This was a game of revenge.
And this time…
I would write the rules.