Mikha stood there, hands still tucked into her jacket pockets, the question barely settled in the air between them when Aiah answered.
"Because honestly, I didn't know if there was even any version of us I was coming back to."
Mikha's gaze didn't leave her.
Aiah continued, her voice steady but laced with something vulnerable.
"Because I was the one who left. And maybe at first I thought I was trying to correct a mistake we both made. That I was choosing an out for both of us."
She let out a small breath, glancing down briefly before looking back at Mikha.
"But seeing you again... having an honest talk..."
Aiah shook her head slightly, like she was still catching up to her own thoughts.
"I kept thinking that maybe I don't need an out."
Mikha's chest tightened.
Aiah met her eyes fully now.
"I just need us to be better."
The words landed heavier than anything that had been said inside the therapy room.
"Better at communicating. Better at giving each other grace. Better at not just surviving but actually growing together."
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Just... full.
Mikha let out a slow breath, her jaw tightening slightly as she processed everything Aiah had just said.
"That sounds nice," she said finally.
Aiah frowned faintly.
"That sounds like a 'but.'"
Mikha huffed softly.
"It is."
She shifted her weight, stepping a little closer but still keeping space between them.
"You're talking about a version of us that doesn't exist yet."
Aiah nodded.
"I know."
"And last time we thought love was enough to figure that out on the way."
Mikha's voice was calm, but grounded.
"It wasn't."
Aiah didn't argue.
"I know."
Mikha studied her carefully.
"So what makes this different?"
The question wasn't defensive.
It was real.
Aiah took a moment before answering.
"We are."
Mikha raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That's a bold claim."
Aiah gave a small, almost nervous smile.
"It is."
She stepped a little closer too now, closing just a fraction of the distance between them.
"But think about it, Mikhs—"
She stopped herself, correcting softly.
"Mikha."
That didn't go unnoticed.
"Back then, we didn't even know what we needed."
Her voice steadied as she continued.
"I didn't understand my panic attacks. You didn't know how to respond to them. We didn't talk about things—we just... reacted."
