Ren's apartment was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against your skin and settled in your bones.
Alina sat curled up on the corner of his grey couch, her legs tucked beneath her, her arms wrapped tightly around herself — as if holding herself together was the only thing she could control. A soft rain tapped against the windowpane, but it couldn't drown the noise in her head.
Her phone lay in her lap.
Every few seconds, her trembling fingers would lift it, unlock the screen, and stare.
No messages.
No missed calls.
No Evander.
But she felt him.
Felt the weight of his absence like a storm gathering in her chest.
Ren watched her from the kitchen, silently stirring two cups of coffee. He said nothing — but his eyes lingered a little too long. He saw the way her lips quivered when she thought no one was looking. The way she jumped at the smallest sound. The way she blinked back tears that refused to fall.
He placed a mug on the table near her.
"You can talk, you know," he said gently, though he didn't expect her to.
Alina managed a weak smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you… for letting me stay."
Ren nodded and returned to his room. He didn't push. Maybe he didn't want to hear about Evander. Maybe he already knew.
Alina looked at the phone again, like a prayer.
Still nothing.
---
Elsewhere in the city — pain wore a different face.
Evander stood in the middle of his apartment, completely still — yet trembling like a volcano about to erupt. His living room looked like a warzone. A glass vase lay shattered on the floor. The framed photo of the two of them — broken, face down.
His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
His mind replayed it again. Again. Again.
Alina running. Her eyes filled with betrayal. Her lips pressed shut as she got into Ren's car.
With him.
He cursed under his breath and punched the wall again, his knuckles already swollen.
He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't stop imagining things that made him sick.
What if Ren touched her?
What if she let him?
What if she needed comfort and… he gave it?
He shook his head violently and grabbed his phone.
One ring. No answer.
Two rings. Three. Five. Seven. Ten.
He kept calling, his heart beating so fast it hurt.
And finally—on the eleventh try—someone answered.
"Alina! How dare you go to someone else's place?!" Evander's voice erupted like thunder. "Are you out of your mind? I want you here. Right now! Come back, do you hear me?!"
There was a pause on the other end.
Then a low voice — calm, cutting — answered, "Alina is in the bathroom. Don't disturb her. She's already suffering enough because of you."
It was Ren.
And before Evander could scream again, the line disconnected.
Evander stood frozen for a second. Then the fury hit.
She's in the bathroom. At his place.
That image — Alina, wet skin, vulnerable, in a house that wasn't his — sent him over the edge.
Without thinking, he grabbed his car keys and stormed out.
The rain was unforgiving — sheets of water crashing from the sky like the heavens were weeping with him. He didn't take a coat. No umbrella. Just rage. Just pain. Just madness.
He drove aimlessly, the tires screeching against the wet road.
His vision blurred — not just from the downpour, but from the tears he refused to admit were there.
---
He ended up in a bar. Somewhere dark. Cheap. Anonymous.
"Whiskey," he said. "Neat. Keep it coming."
One drink. Two. Four.
His world spun.
But the pain didn't go away. In fact, it grew sharper, cutting him from inside out.
He saw her face in every woman. Heard her laugh in every glass clink. But the sound of Ren's voice haunted him like poison in his veins.
He stumbled out into the night. Rain soaked him instantly, mixing with his sweat, his blood, his sorrow.
She's with him. Right now.
He got into the car again.
He didn't know where he was going.
He just drove.
Fast. Reckless. Through red lights. Past honking cars.
Everything blurred. He swore he saw her on the sidewalk — ran a red light to reach her — only to realize it was a stranger.
The storm howled louder. The streets were half-flooded. He lost control.
Skidded.
Tires screeched.
A crash. A jolt. Glass shattered.
The world went black.
When he opened his eyes, he was still inside the car — faint rain trickling through the broken window. His head was bleeding. He couldn't move.
People had gathered. Some shouting. One calling for help.
And then — through the fog — a girl's face appeared at his window.
"Evander?" her voice broke through.
He blinked.
He knew that voice. Soft. Feminine. Familiar.
She opened the door and called for someone to help.
Who was she?
A stranger? A friend? Or someone with a past?
He didn't know. His consciousness slipped away before he could ask.
---
Back at Ren's house…
Alina stepped out of the bathroom, her body wrapped in a soft towel, her skin still damp and warm. Her face looked calmer — but her eyes, oh, her eyes still carried the storm.
She dried her hair slowly, staring at the mirror. And in that reflection — she saw Evander's face again.
The way his fist hit the door that day.
The way he looked like a boy who'd been broken too many times.
The way he held her — like he was afraid to lose her even before he had her.
She sat on the edge of the guest bed.
Was she doing the right thing?
Punishing him… or herself?
Ren appeared at the door. "I left some soup on the table. Try to rest."
"Thank you," she whispered.
He nodded and disappeared into his room.
She lay down.
But sleep didn't come.
Just the guilt. Just the ache. Just the image of Evander — alone, furious, hurting himself again.
She picked up her phone to see if there's any text and she surprised after seeing so many missed calls from Evander. Her heart was beating so loud and by the time she was about to reply...
Her phone buzzed suddenly.
It was Unknown number.
Her heart skipped.
She hesitated… stared at it… the air around her heavy with something unexplainable.
She picked it up.
"Hello…?"
The voice on the other end was not Evander.
But it made her sit upright — eyes wide.
"Are you Alina Hart?"
"Yes… who is this?"
"I'm calling from St. Augustine Hospital. There's a man here. He was in an accident. His ID says Evander Ross."
The phone slipped from her hand.
The rain outside continued.
But inside her — a different storm had just begun.