The Echo Returns

Author's Note: This story isn’t just hers.

It belongs to every soul who loved deeply, gave sincerely, and still ended up lost in silence. It’s the echo of hopes that were nurtured yet never bloomed. It’s the quiet ache of those who did everything right— but still wonder, where did I go wrong?

Shadow of Love – Part 2: The Echo Returns

Jay’s love didn’t come crashing into her life with noise.

It arrived like a sunrise—soft, patient, undeniable. He didn’t just love her. He studied her. Watched her quietly from across crowded rooms, not just with desire—but with reverence.

At parties, while others spoke and laughed, his eyes only searched for her. He never interrupted. He waited. Waited until her eyes, almost involuntarily, found his—and in that glance, something unspoken passed between them.

A knowing.

A pull.

An invisible thread.

He would stand outside her office for hours when she was locked in long, draining meetings—never texting, never rushing her, just… waiting. Not because he had nowhere else to be. But because she was his destination.

And when she finally walked out, exhausted and blurry-eyed, he’d hand her favorite tea latte—already sweetened just the way she liked, before she even asked.

She never had to ask. He had already learned her silences. He guarded her like a knight from another era. Dead stares to every man who looked too long. A quiet but undeniable possession.

Not out of control—

Out of deep, sacred love.

A protector.

Always a few steps behind, but always there.

One night, she called him he didn’t pick .Next day she was busy in work when Jay,s calls got missed .He assumed it her anger .She returned home to find her apartment filled with hundreds of fairy lights, dozens of flower bouquets with sorry cards in each of them .

There, on her desk, sat her childhood drawing—a sketch she had once shown him and he requested to keep it. He framed it, and placed it beside a single sentence written

"You will never go unseen again by me."

Not for a single heartbeat, not for a single breath.

She didn’t fall in love all at once.

She melted—

Layer by layer.

Gaze by gaze.

Gesture by gesture.

And slowly, the world changed colors. There was an aura around her now. She feels as white light has surrounded her all the time.

So this is what people in love feel like…

She caught her reflection smiling for no reason.

Jay didn’t win her over with grand speeches. He became her peace. He made the air easier to breathe. He didn’t demand her heart—he made it feel safe enough to offer itself. For the first time in her life, Alyna wasn’t afraid of being alone.

Because now, she wasn’t.

Not even in storms, not even when he is not around. Jay’s love didn’t just feel like affection—

It felt like an aura surrounded her.

He made Alyna feel seen in ways that shattered her. Not because she had never been loved before— but because she had never been loved like this. He noticed the way she held her breath when she was anxious. The slight tremble in her fingers when she was overwhelmed. The stars in her eyes when she liked something, the beauty of her smile.

And slowly, she surrendered.

So when the world screamed,

“Girls like you don’t belong in that world.”

“This will be a disaster.”

His promises whispered louder:

“I’ll keep you like a queen.”

“People will envy your fate.”

“Your friends will wish for a husband like me.

She chose him.

Not to defy anyone—

But to finally, finally choose herself.

And in that choice,

She bloomed.

So when his proposal reached her family, the world did not cheer.

Hell broke loose.

The silence in her house turned to cold glares. Sharp, slicing words exploded into open outrage.

“He’s from where?”

“We didn’t raise you for this.”

“Do you even know who you’re marrying?”

“He can never belong in our world.”

“This is beneath your dignity.”

The love that once wrapped around her like a silk scarf was now being dragged through the mud of pedigree, pride, and protocol.

His economic background,

His passport,

His roots, his life style

His accent

All were scrutinized like defects in an otherwise perfect painting.

Alyna, once their golden girl, Was now their greatest disappointment. But in the middle of that noise, Jay’s voice echoed louder in her heart:

Love isn’t meant to be measured by bank accounts or birthplaces,” he said softly.

“Love must rise above the noise of the world—beyond money, beyond background.”

“One doesn't choose the family they're born into…

But they do choose how they love, how they care, and how they protect.”

“And I promise you this With me, you will never feel small. Because my love for you isn’t limited by circumstance— It’s defined by intention.”

And when he heard of the storm, he didn’t hide. With a calm smile, grace and humility, he walked into the lion’s den. He greeted them with the quiet dignity of a man

who knew the weight of what he was asking for—

And the worth of the woman he was asking it for.

He didn’t boast.

He didn’t beg.

He spoke gently, like someone planting seeds of trust in rocky soil.

“I know we come from different worlds,” he said.

“But I have walked through mine with clean hands and a loyal heart.”

“I will care for her like she is a flower in my prayer garden.”

“I may not offer her riches… but she will never go without honor.”

And something in that room shifted.

Not enough to bless the union—

But just enough to let it breathe.

And for Alyna, that was everything.

Because in that moment—watching Jay stand in front of her storm, unshaken—

She felt her soul rise.

He didn’t just choose her. He claimed her.

Not with noise, but with honor. Not with force, but with faith.

And suddenly, her worth wasn’t tied to what she could bring to table.

It was reflected in the man willing to fight the world to walk beside her.

This, she thought, is what love should feel like. So, she chose him—

Not because he was the easiest road to walk, but because he was the one who quietly earned her heart.

And when she looked at herself in the mirror that night. She felt a radiance, not because of how she looked, but because of how she was seen.

Not just admired, But understood.

A rare gem whose worth wasn’t just imagined— It was recognized. She had always longed to be with someone who carried true values shown through his chracter .The one who saw beyond beauty, beyond degrees, beyond worldly standards.

Someone who recognized the soul beneath the surface.

She wanted that anyone dealing with her would feel honored, not burdened.

And now…

She was that girl.

Because someone had looked at all her cracks—

And called them art.

Someone had chosen her, Not just for what she gave— But for who she was.

And in that moment, She smiled.

Not like a silly girl in love—

But the smile of a woman who had finally been loved rightly.

And then… just one day after the wedding, he disappeared.

They had barely landed in his hometown; a place soaked in the colors of tradition and the weight of old memories.

It was festival season, and they had flown back to celebrate it with his family—his people.

Alyna told herself, This is beautiful. This is part of loving someone—embracing their roots.

But slowly, something began to shift.

Jay’s gaze no longer lingered. His smile—once reserved only for her—was now scattered carelessly among old friends and family. During the celebrations, he was present.

But not with her.

Maybe he’s just overwhelmed, she told herself.

He’s back after three years. The noise, the nostalgia, the culture—it must be pulling him in every direction.

She excused every silence.

Every missed glance. Every moment where she stood alone in a room full of people, wearing a new bride’s glow and a hollow ache under her ribs. Then when the festival ended. The next morning, he simply… wasn’t there.

No note. No message.

Just the offhand remark from her mother-in-law, said with a sheepish smirk and a falsely sweet tone:

“He’s out with his friends. Boys’ day out, you know. He needed a break.”

A break? From what?

From her?

Her heart paused—but she smiled. She had to. That’s what new brides are taught, isn’t it?

But what came next cracked her brick by brick constructed calm:

The older woman leaned in, lowering her voice as if sharing a harmless little secret.

“You know… a famous astrologer once told me that Jay would marry twice.”

She watched Alyna closely as she spoke, her eyes glinting with something between curiosity and cruelty.

Alyna’s breath caught in her throat.

Time slowed. The room, once warm with sunlight, suddenly felt cold.

Twice?

Her stomach twisted. Her mother-in-law giggled softly, waving a hand. “Oh, don’t worry, . These astrologers say all sorts of things. One shouldn’t believe them.” But the damage had been done.

The seed had been planted. And it took root like a weed—fast and choking.

Alyna nodded, but her face had already gone pale. And then… another whispers, from a cousin, a neighbor a too-curious guest.

Jay had once been in love with someone else. A classmate, his neighbor. Their love story had been famous in the town—the sparkling couple, they were called.

But the girl broke with him. She married someone else.

She stared at her reflection that night, her wedding jewelry still sparkling, but her eyes… dim.

It was the past, she told herself.

He was young. He didn’t know what love meant. He loves me now. No one could love anyone more than the way he did.

No one could love with that kind of intensity twice.

She clung to that thought like a lifeline. Because anything else—anything darker—would drown her. But the cracks had begun.

On their honeymoon, he brought every emotion except romance.

He complained about

the food.

The hotel.

The scenery

Her clothes.

Her voice, even her smile.

She kept waiting for him to look at her lovingly. She kept searching his face for that boy who once waited hours outside her office.

But now, even her laughter seemed to irritate him.

And once home, the distance grew wider. He disappeared into his world of business meetings, dealings, tendering. Early mornings. Late nights. Mid-day .He has no schedule.

Silent dinners. Missed breakfast

Weekends that were for “the boys.”

And Alyna—she became a stranger in her own story. He never truly contributed to their home.

Not in money. Not in presence. Not in effort.

But when Alyna—after weeks of holding it in—finally voiced her disappointment, He pulled her close, wrapped her in his arms, looked deep into her eyes with that same intensity that once made her feel like the center of the universe, and whispered:

“I thought you would understand me.”

“I have responsibilities… they depend on me.”

“But this home? This is your space, darling. Your canvas. You are free to spread the colors of your choice here.”

“They wouldn’t compromise—but I know you, the light of my life, you would stand with me.”

And she did.

She nodded through the sting in her chest. Because she was used to this kind of love in exchange of her rights.

Love that made her feel needed… but never nurtured.

Chosen… but never prioritized.

She had learned early—

From her mother’s tired eyes and burdened hands—

That being the “strong one” meant saying yes even to unspoken requests

Even when your heart whispered please, not this time.

Every time her mother said:

“Your siblings are still immature… they won’t understand but you do.”

“I couldn't do it for you right now—next time, my love.”

And every time, Alyna smiled and agreed.

Because she believed that her peace was in being the one who relieved others.

Who never asked for more.

Who always understood.

Who waited.

On every birthday. Every anniversary.

Every Christmas, every celebration—

Jay always had a list of reasons why he couldn’t do more.

She took it all in silence.

Managed everything herself.

Carrying the weight of two.

Not because she was okay.

But because every argument ended in a fight— A storm where she was the only one left soaked in tears, While he walked away dry, untouched, unapologetic. No sorry, no warmth, no effort to mend. Just silence… or worse, cold logic. He’d throw false promises

And when she asked for basic affection or time,. He’d quietly label her needy—materialistic,. For wanting the very things he once adored her for not chasing.

Even when she fell ill, he never cared the way she imagined he would.

He would scoff:

“You know I’m an alpha male. We don’t stress about minor illnesses unless someone’s in the ICU.”

And she would tell herself,

He’s like my father. They don’t show emotions, but deep down—they care. Don’t they?

So she quietly survived on instant noodles and tea.

While he grilled steaks and laughed with his friends in the pool parties.

He was always “on a budget.”

Yet somehow, the budget stretched to dine out with his circle, to expansive perfumes, brand named spectacles , sleek gadgets, foreign trips with friends.

But never for her. He is “on budget”, still he managed to do it to keep his head high among his circle .I must not burden him. She gave herself excuses.

But deep down she waited. Every sacrifice she made, Every compromise she accepted, was folded in the belief that love would eventually turn the wheel.

That patience, surely, had a reward.

That her love, her ease, her silence— Would one day return as gold.

Because he often reassures her.

“Just one deal, Alyna,” he would say.

“One breakthrough, and I’ll buy you a luxurious car, a mansion, a foreign trip, luxury, style, class everything a woman could wish for. Just wait.”.

“I don’t want to give you cheap, substandard gifts. You’re not meant for that.”

“I’m waiting for my big payment to come through. I want to buy you something expensive, rare… something worthy of being shown off everywhere. Because you deserve best.”

And she feels alive again Oh, he knows. He’s not clueless—he’s fully aware of my sufferings.

He says he has big plans…

Just that—luck isn’t on his side.

But deep down, she wonders…

Is it really his luck? Or is it mine that keeps failing—again and again? Because this isn’t the first time my happiness slipped through my fingers. It’s as if my destiny has a

habit of turning blessings into delays,

And love into waiting.

she lived in the glow of his words. Words that draped over reality like silk— Soft, shimmering, and deceiving. They covered the coldness beneath her bare feet, Letting her believe that someday, that icy floor would turn into a warm, exquisite carpet of care.

But silk can’t warm a heart.

And sweet words, no matter how poetic,

Can’t build a home where actions are absent.

She tried to rekindle what they had. Left him notes filled with affection. Planned dinners, surprise gifts, hosted his circle.

Served love on every plate.

During those gatherings, he came alive for everyone but her. He praised their outfits. Remembered their birthdays. Complimented their achievements. Even once complimented a guest’s painting—a hobby Alyna had given up because he’d once mocked hers.

And that night, in the quiet of their room, she whispered into the darkness:

Maybe he disliked something in me.

Maybe someone poisoned his mind against me

Maybe he is stressed

Maybe it’s a phase.May be stress changed him.

But deep down, something colder answered which she shrugged off.

She pleaded to him, requested him to tell her what to fix in her, what to fix in this marriage. But he gave her cold response,

I don’t like your profession. You are at work when I am at home. I always imagined of a home maker wife.

Maybe if I change myself, it will reignite his love for me.

She changed.

First her profession.

Then her wardrobe.

Then her social circle.

Then her life style.

She became someone else.

Just for a glance. Just for a smile.

Once again, she was getting crumbs, crumbs of love scattered here and there. And she took them—hoping one day she will get full.

She insisted on remembering the old memories, the promises he once made, but every time, he coldly replied I don’t remember anything.

He had promised her a big surprise. The day they had both spoken of several times.

The day he kept hinting at with a boyish grin and glittering eyes:

“You’ll be surprised.”

“You’ll be proud.”

“There’s a surprise for you, my love. Just wait.”

And she did.

With her whole heart.

She dreamt of telling the world— The friends, the ex-colleagues, the family who kept complaining of her fading glow. They’ll all see now. I chose HIM. And it was worth it. She thought.

That morning, she was awakened by noise.

A loud, aggressive sound—

Someone was pressing the accelerator of a car over and over,

Recklessly, like a child flaunting a toy he had just earned.

She rushed to the window, and what she saw made her freeze.

There he was.

Jay.

Beaming.

Sitting inside the latest model of a sleek, jaw-droopingly expensive sports car. A cherry red monument to every promise she had waited on.

He was smiling like he had just conquered the world. Ear to ear.

She walked outside, slowly. Her steps heavy. Her eyes wide with disbelief.

This was it? This was the surprise.

Jay looked at her, expecting joy, applause—tears, maybe.

But what he saw on her face stopped him.

“Are you not happy?” he asked, stepping out of the car.

Confused. Hurt even.

She blinked, trying to find words in the dust storm of her thoughts.

“This was my biggest dream since childhood,” he said.

His voice shocked like a child who expected to be celebrated.

“I thought you’d be happy in my happiness. I thought you'd be proud of your husband.”

She looked at him, her lips trembling.

“Yes. It was your dream. But what about me?”

He reached for her hand, gently.

“Honey… we’re one.

“Our dreams, our achievements—they’re together,” he said, placing his hand proudly on the new car.

“It’s yours too. When your husband drives it around,

people will envy you.

You can even take it to meet your friends.” She felt a tinge of disappointment in his voice on her reaction.

She nodded slowly, tears gathering in her eyes—

not of joy, but of something heavier, harder to name.

He didn’t notice her tears or may be noticed but chose to ignore.

He turned away describing the car’s latest features—

the engine, the leather seats, the tech upgrades.

It was his big day. I must smile, she told herself. I must look excited… for him. After all, aren’t partners meant to share each other’s joy and victories?

But deep inside, she couldn’t silence the ache of victories she never felt part of.

Alyna stopped being Alyna.

She began to fade.

She stopped caring for herself.

Stopped finding joy in the small, beautiful moments she once lived for.

She had no plans. Felt no desire to cherish. She stopped sharing.

Silently hoping he’d notice the quiet emptiness growing inside her.

But even her silence went unnoticed.

She started talking to herself. He often saw her in tears but never asked the reason. She moved through life like a dead fish caught in the current— Breathing, existing, but no longer living.

Once again, Alyna stood between two parallel worlds—

One woven from dreams where love is returned,

And the other, dark cold reality, where she kept giving more and more of herself,

Believing that maybe—just maybe—sacrifice, compromise could revive what was lost.

She began to disappear in her parallel worlds.

Not physically,

But emotionally.

Spiritually.

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece,

A presence, not a person.

Untouched. Unseen.

Waiting for a kind of love

That perhaps was never meant to return.

The Awakening is near.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! Part 3 – The Awakening: Coming Soon.

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