Out of Reach | Mikhaiah

EPILOGUE

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are purely coincidental. Read, enjoy, and don't take it too seriously!

- ✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✦ -

Arisha's POV:

Years passed.

And with every year that slipped through my hands... I lost parts of myself.

I've been in Paris for almost five years now. Living. Breathing. But never really feeling alive.

I miss home.

I miss her.

I'm no longer the model or pop idol the world used to cheer for.
Just a businesswoman now... hiding in the quiet. Our girl group's final concert was five years ago-our last bow. After that, I never stepped back into the spotlight.

Because how do you shine when your light is gone?

---

I stepped out of the café. Cool air. Too quiet. Too late.

Then-

"Arisha."

The world stopped. The street faded.
Just that voice.

Soft. Familiar. Weighted.

I turned.

And there she was.

Malisse.

But not the Malisse I remembered.

No mischief in her eyes. No playful grin.
No bright tones.

She stood with stillness now. With gravity. Like someone who's buried too much... and survived anyway.

She looked at me. Like she'd been waiting a long time. Like seeing me again hurt more than it healed.

I didn't speak. I didn't know how.

She walked toward me.

Each step - certain.
But careful.
As if she knew I could run.

She stopped in front of me.
Sighed.

"We both lost a lot, huh?" she said, voice barely above the wind.

My throat burned.
Because yes.

Yes, we did.

Years.
People.
Words unsaid.
Versions of ourselves that never made it through.

She blinked.

"I wanted to see you," she confessed, softer this time.

Like it shamed her. Like it freed her.

"I needed to."

And then-

"Hinihintay ka na niya, Ari." A pause.
A breath. "Uwi ka na."

My chest cracked open.

Five years. Of wandering. Of guilt.
Of silence I tried to wear like armor.
I looked at her. Really looked.

And realized she wasn't just here for someone else.

She came for me too.

"Miss kita," I whispered. Finally.

Malisse smiled. Barely. But it reached her eyes.

"Matagal na."

We held hands. Her grip - steady. Warm. Like home I forgot existed.

No more explanations. No more stories.

Just two people who knew what loss felt like and still chose to show up.