Four days. Four endless days. Ninety-six hours. Five thousand seven hundred sixty minutes.
Three hundred forty-five thousand six hundred seconds. And in every one of those seconds, he missed her.
He missed her with every breath, every heartbeat, every empty glance at the door. He missed her when he woke up, and the side of the couch was cold. He missed her when he came home and found silence waiting instead of her voice.
He thought he was used to loneliness as he had lived in it for years, surrounded by fame, noise, and applause. That's it, he always used to live like that, but since he shifted here, everything shifted in him, even something inside him.
But now he realized loneliness was not the absence of people, it was the absence of her. She had filled his world with something he never knew he needed: warmth. And then suddenly she took it away without any warning.
He didn't just miss Alina. He missed the version of himself that only existed when she was around, the man who smiled without thinking, who cooked food without reason, who laughed at the simplest things.
Now he was back to being Kai Arden, the man everyone admired, but no one truly knew. Who he is, and no one ever dared to go close to him, he is just a man who had everything… except her. He could count the hours, the minutes, the seconds since she left. But he couldn't measure how much he missed her. Because that… was infinite.
Days passed like blurred frames of a movie, empty, colorless, silent. Four days. It had been four long days since she'd vanished. Since his world had gone quiet.
Kai sat in his office chair, the city lights bleeding through the glass walls behind him, the glow catching faintly in his tired eyes. Papers lay scattered across his desk, the computer screen still flickering with unread emails, but none of it seemed to matter. His mind wasn't here. It hadn't been here for days.
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.
"I can't be addicted to someone," he muttered under his breath, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "I can't."
But the words felt hollow like a lie he was desperate to believe. He wasn't feeling well, but it wasn't the kind of sickness that a doctor could cure. It was something deeper, heavier. A dull ache that refused to go away. Everything around him was fine, the projects, the company, the fame, the applause, but it felt like he hadn't taken a proper breath in days.
Something was missing. Something he couldn't name. And no matter how much he tried to ignore it, every path his thoughts took led to her.
Alina. Her laughter. Her stubbornness. The way she used to talk, without realizing how her words could linger. The way she made his calm world feel like chaos. Now that calmness is stirring inside him, like he can't be able to tolerate that, as his world has suddenly changed into a strangely calm place.
He felt everything when it came to her anger, confusion, fondness, frustration, and longing. But the one thing he couldn't do was forget her. He couldn't erase her from his thoughts, couldn't silence the echo she had left in his life.
He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "No… I can't be attached to someone. I can't."
He turned his chair toward the window, staring out at the cloudy sky.
"I need to keep myself busy," he whispered, his voice breaking just slightly. "Do something. Anything. So that she… can't be remembered."
But the truth was, trying to keep himself busy so he wouldn't think about her was nothing but a foolish lie. Because she was already there, carved into every thought, woven into every silence, breathing in every breath he took.
How could he possibly separate her from himself… when Alina wasn't around him anymore
She was within him. She lived in his mind and in the quiet ache that refused to fade.
How could Kai remove Alina… without tearing a piece of himself apart?
Kai stared blankly at the files scattered across his desk, their neat rows of text blurring into meaningless lines. The glow from the city outside filtered through the blinds, streaking pale gold across his face. Yet his eyes… they weren't seeing any of it. They were somewhere else, somewhere far away, where her laughter still echoed faintly in the back of his mind.
"Sir?"
The voice snapped him back. He blinked once, his jaw tightening as he realised Ryan was standing near the door, holding a folder.
When had he even come in? Had he knocked? Kai didn't remember giving permission, but Ryan was there quietly, as if he'd been standing for a while, hesitant to disturb him.
"Hm?" Kai hummed, low and distracted.
Ryan shifted awkwardly, studying him. "I've been noticing… You haven't been yourself since the anniversary night. Are you okay?"
For a moment, Kai didn't respond. He had perfected the art of hiding of keeping his face still, his tone steady, his expression unreadable. But hearing Ryan's words… it startled something inside him. He thought he was good at it, good at concealing the storm behind his calm. But it turned out Ryan was better at seeing through it.
Kai forced a faint nod, trying to hold that practiced neutrality. His lips parted as if to answer, but nothing came out. He wanted to say something, anything, but how could he explain something even he didn't understand?
It wasn't sadness. It wasn't anger. It wasn't loneliness. It was something far deeper, a hollow ache that lived quietly beneath his ribs, something wordless and unyielding.
Like a missing heartbeat. Like a breath that refused to come out. It was the kind of ache that didn't scream; it whispered. In her voice. In the silence she left behind.
When he had returned from the shoot that night, he thought he had missed the house, the quiet, the comfort. But he was wrong. He didn't miss the house. He missed someone who had made it feel like home. He missed her.
Kai clenched his jaw. He couldn't let himself drown in it. He needed to stay busy to silence this ache before it consumed him.
He turned to Ryan. "Any projects coming up?"
Ryan nodded hesitantly, "There's a photoshoot scheduled, but… the location had some issues. The team needs more time."
"Let's go," Kai said abruptly, rising from his chair. The decision sounded impulsive, but he didn't care. Anything to escape this suffocating stillness.
Ryan blinked. "Go? But, sir.."
Kai's tone softened. "What's the problem?"
Ryan hesitated before answering, "It's… in the countryside. The directors wanted something aesthetic, peaceful, and natural. They found an old house that fits perfectly, but…" He trailed off.
"But what?" Kai asked, a slight edge creeping into his voice.
Ryan sighed. "Apparently, the person who owns or stays there… isn't agreeing easily. They've been creating some kind of problem."
Kai frowned, a faint crease forming between his brows.
"A house in the countryside?" he repeated, his tone carrying that quiet curiosity that often preceded a decision.
Ryan nodded, adjusting the file in his hand. "Yes…they said it has that old, warm charm the kind you can't recreate."
That was it. That was exactly what Kai needed: a distraction, a project, something to keep his mind occupied and far away from the ghost that had been haunting him for days.
Without a second thought, he pushed back his chair and stood up, determination flashing in his eyes. "Let's go," he said curtly, already striding toward the door.
"Wait...." Ryan started, struggling to keep up as Kai's long strides carried him swiftly down the corridor.
Kai didn't slow down. His focus was razor-sharp now; the project was the only thing that could silence the noise in his head, even for a while.
Then suddenly, Ryan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned, glancing at the screen. The moment he saw the caller ID, his expression changed.
"Ryan?" Kai called over his shoulder, noticing the sound of footsteps behind him had stopped.
Ryan didn't respond immediately. He was already answering the call, his tone dropping low.
"Hello?... Wait, what? When?... Alright, I'll be there."
He hung up quickly, looking tense.
"What happened?" Kai asked, turning back toward him.
"Something urgent came up," Ryan said hastily, already stepping backward. "I'll send you the location!"
Before Kai could ask anything else, Ryan was gone, almost running down the hall, his voice fading with distance.
Kai stood there, brows still knitted, watching him disappear around the corner.
A quiet sigh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"What now…" he murmured under his breath.
The air felt heavier again, the silence louder. And though he wouldn't admit it, a strange feeling stirred in his chest that familiar sense that whatever waited ahead… wasn't just a project.