BETWEEN ME AND YOU

THE PULSE

The morning after was too quiet. Not the kind of quiet that soothes, but the kind that hums, alive, waiting for something to break it. Kristine sat by the window again, her fingers tracing the outline of the compass. The light outside was thin, like it couldn’t decide whether to be day or dream.

Banjo Gomez stood by the doorway, watching her. He had dark circles under his eyes, his shirt wrinkled from a night of no sleep. He didn’t say anything, he just watched the woman he loved drift farther from him with every heartbeat.

When Kristine finally spoke, her voice was soft, and hollow. “Banjo… I saw her again last night.”

He frowned. “Her?”

“The other me. In the mirror.” She turned slowly, eyes distant. “She said I needed to remember what love costs. I don’t know what that means.”

Banjo rubbed the back of his neck. “You think it’s another memory?”

She shook her head. “No. It felt like a warning.”

He wanted to argue.. to tell her it was trauma, or imagination, or the brain’s cruel tricks. But he couldn’t. Not after seeing that compass move. Not after hearing her whisper another man’s name in her sleep.

“I think…” he said carefully, “you should rest. No more hospitals today. Just..”

“Rest?” She let out a shaky laugh. “Banjo, I don’t even know who’s living inside this body anymore. How do you rest when you’re not sure which life is yours?” Her words cut through him.

Banjo stepped closer but he didn’t touch her. Not yet. “Then let me help you find out.”

“How?”

“By not facing it alone,” he said. “You came back to me, Kris. Maybe that means something... maybe you were meant to.”

For a moment, Kristine looked at him, and this time she saw the man who once waited at the hospital gates every day, who held her when her body refused to heal. The love in his eyes was steady.

Kristine is sure enough that her memories are becoming clearer, revealing that Banjo is still waiting for her. He holds onto hope for her return, longing for her revival and the chance to reunite with her family again. But behind it, there was fear. She wanted to believe in that love again. But love wasn’t supposed to echo with someone else’s name.

That afternoon, Yuan ran around the living room, his laughter briefly breaking the tension. He was building towers out of toy blocks, naming them “Mommy’s castle” and “Daddy’s boat.”

Kristine smiled faintly as she watched him, her heart softening... until she felt it again. A pulse.

But its not of her own.

Its like a sound of a drum where the rhythmic is alive. Like a heartbeat.

“Banjo?” she whispered.

He looked up from the couch. “What is it?”

“The compass… it’s warm.”

He frowned. “Warm?”

She nodded, holding it out. He took it hesitantly... and his eyes widened. It was pulsing, softly, like something alive was trapped inside.

Then it stopped. Both of them froze.

Kristine’s vision blurred... flashes of a hospital corridor, sterile and cold. There is a woman’s voice echoed down the hall, Code blue, Room 314!

And then, "Rico’s" voice... desperate and breaking. "Don’t take her away from me!" As if the moment is the time of saying "goodbye" to someone who give up on this life.

Kristine gasped, clutching her chest. Banjo caught her right away before she fell.

“Kristine! Breathe, sweetheart, please....”

Kristine slowly opened her eyes and looked at him through tears. “It’s him. He’s not gone.”

Banjo held her tighter, his heart racing. He wanted to believe it was just a memory, but he could feel something too... a faint hum beneath her skin, like static before a storm.

That night, he couldn’t sleep again. He sat in the living room with the compass lying on the table between them. Its needle twitched every few minutes, pointing somewhere new each time.. east, north, then back again.

Kristine had fallen asleep on the couch, her breathing soft but uneven. Banjo leaned back, rubbing his temples.

Then, faintly, the compass glowed.

Banjo stared at it. The glow was soft, blue-white, pulsing gently like a heartbeat.

A voice drifted through the room. Not out loud... but more like it was inside his head.

"She doesn’t belong to you" Banjo shot up, eyes scanning the room. “Who’s there?”

"You promised her forever," the voice whispered. "But "forever" was mine first."

The lights flickered.

Banjo’s breath hitched. “Rico?” After he called that name, everything seems to be normal around and silence cover up.

But then... Kristine stirred while sleeping.. She murmured something in her sleep, her lips trembling.

“Rico… please don’t go…”

Banjo Gomez felt his chest tighten, pain twisting through him. He sat beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m right here,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he was saying it to comfort her, or himself.

When morning came, Kristine woke with tears already on her cheeks. She touched the compass again, finding it cold, lifeless, as though whatever lived inside had gone quiet for now.

She looked at Banjo, who hadn’t slept at all. “You heard it too, didn’t you?”

He hesitated. Then nodded.

“Then we’re not crazy,” she said softly.

“No,” he said, his voice breaking. “But we’re not safe either.”

Later that day, Banjo drove her to an old church outside the city. The stone walls were mossy, the air thick with incense and old prayers.

He’d brought her here once before, the day after their wedding.

Kristine walked slowly down the aisle, fingertips grazing the wooden pews. “It feels different now,” she murmured. “Like something’s waiting.”

A priest approached, Father Mateo, an old friend of Banjo’s family. His face softened when he saw her. “Kristine. You’re finally home.”

She bowed slightly. “Father, I think… something followed me back.”

The priest exchanged a glance with Banjo. “Tell me what you’ve seen.”

So she told him, the whispers, the visions, the compass that beat like a living heart.

Father Mateo listened, eyes calm but troubled. “Sometimes, when two souls are bound by love that defies death, one may cross the veil searching for the other. But if it does… it doesn’t always come alone.”

Banjo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There is always a cost,” the priest said quietly. “When a door between worlds opens, something else can step through.”

The church bells tolled softly in the distance. Kristine’s hand trembled around the compass. The needle spun wildly now, like it was caught in a storm.

Banjo reached for her hand, but the moment he touched her hand, a flash of light seared the air,and both of them gasped. For an instant, Banjo saw her face blur.. her features shifting into another woman’s.

Rico and Kristine inter-face

Her eyes were full of tears. “Help me,” she whispered. “He’s trapped.”

Then the light vanished.

Banjo staggered back, heart pounding. “Wha...what was that?”

Kristine fell to her knees, trembling. “He’s calling me from somewhere… but I don’t think he’s the only one anymore.”

Outside, thunder rumbled again... but more closer this time. And somewhere in the distance, the faint echo of a heartbeat answered back.