"I failed her," Maya said, her voice cracking mid-sentence. "I failed as a friend." She lifted her face, and her expression was pure pain, the kind that came not from the heart but from the soul.
"When Alina needed me the most…" she paused, choking on her own words. "I wasn't there."
Ryan said nothing. He knew the best thing right now was silence to let her speak, to let her release what she'd been holding in. And so she did.
"It was four nights ago," Maya began slowly, her voice breaking like glass. "That night, Alina got a call from the hospital. It was about her mother."
Kai froze where he stood by the door. Every muscle in his body stilled, and his heartbeat faltered. Maya's words cut through the quiet like thunder.
"She was told that her mother was in critical condition," Maya continued, her eyes distant as if replaying every moment in her mind. "Alina didn't even think twice. She rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night, all alone."
Her lips trembled as she spoke. "She stayed there the entire night, praying, begging the lord to give her mother one more chance… just one."
Her voice softened into a whisper. "But by morning, it was over."
Ryan's eyes closed briefly. The room felt heavier, full of emotions
Maya wiped her cheeks roughly, her tears refusing to stop. "Her father passed away when she was ten. Since then, it's always been just her and her mother. They were all each other had."
Kai's eyes lowered. His fists clenched silently. He might be standing there, but all of his ears were near Ryan and Maya
Maya continued, her tone trembling. "Her mother loved her and supported her the most. She never told Alina that she was sick. Never wanted her to worry. She hid it for months, maybe years. Always smiled when Alina called. Always said she was fine."
She gave a small, bitter laugh that sounded like heartbreak. "She used to tell Alina not to worry, that she'd be here for her wedding, for her dreams… But she was already fading away."
Ryan exchanged a glance with Kai, but Kai didn't move. His jaw tightened beneath the mask, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor, but his eyes were clouded, burning.
Maya sniffed and went on, her voice growing shakier. "Alina used to visit her hometown every festival. She said her mother never looked sick. Never once mentioned hospitals or medicines. But after she passed away, Alina found out…"
Her words stopped, her voice hitched, and she covered her face briefly before continuing. "She found out her mother had mortgaged this house. Everything she had, every little thing, she sold for her treatment. She didn't want Alina to know. She used that money for her medical expenses, just so Alina could live peacefully."
Ryan's expression darkened. "This house is under mortgage?"
Maya nodded weakly. "Yes. Her mother… she didn't even tell her."
Kai's hands trembled. He didn't even realize he was gripping his own wrist tightly, trying to keep himself grounded. Every word Maya spoke was a knife to his chest. He remembered Alina's laugh. Her soft voice. The way she used to light up every room she walked into.
And now… now he was hearing how broken she truly was.
Maya's eyes filled again as she continued. "Her mother's health got worse so fast. Alina didn't have anyone. No family, no relatives. Just me... and I…" she paused, her voice breaking. "I wasn't here."
Her lips quivered. "I was at my parents' house when she called. I thought it was just another call. She didn't tell me how bad it was."
Ryan's face softened. "You didn't know?"
"But I should have," she snapped, tears spilling faster. "I should have known. I should have been here. I should've seen the signs."
She buried her face in her hands. "When I came back, it was too late. Her mother was gone… and Alina..."
Her voice broke completely. She took a deep, shaky breath. "Alina locked herself in this house," Maya whispered, her eyes glistening. "She didn't eat for four days. She didn't answer my calls. When she didn't open the door. Mrs. Collins called me and told me how she came here every single day, knocking, crying, begging her to open it."
Ryan lowered his gaze.
"But she didn't," Maya continued in a hollow voice. "until today."
Her lips curved into a trembling, painful smile. "And she opened it… "
Ryan turned slightly to look at Kai. Kai didn't look up, but his chest rose and fell sharply like he'd been holding his breath for too long.
The silence that followed was unbearable. Ryan swallowed hard. "So all this time, she was alone."
Maya nodded. " Completely alone. She was drowning and never said a word."
Ryan's voice softened. "She's always been strong."
"No," Maya said, shaking her head. "She just pretends to be."
Her eyes turned distant again. "She's always been like that. After her father's death, she started hiding her pain. She smiled when she was breaking. She said she was fine when she wasn't. She helped everyone but never asked for help herself."
She pressed her hand to her mouth, choking on a sob. "And now… now she's broken. I saw it in her eyes, Ryan. There's nothing left there. Just emptiness."
Kai finally lifted his gaze. His eyes, though half-hidden beneath the brim of his hat, were red. Ryan noticed, and his chest tightened. Maya's words had hit him hard, but for Kai… it was something else entirely. Because the girl lying in that room, pale, fragile, clinging to life, wasn't just anyone. She was his everything..
Maya's voice dropped to a whisper. "You know, Ryan… when Alina's mother died, the neighbors said she didn't even cry in front of them. She just stood there, numb. Quiet. She only said one thing: ''Home''
Kai's throat tightened painfully at hearing that word Home.
Maya continued, her voice barely audible now. "And that night… after the funeral… she came back here. Closed the door. And didn't step out again."
Ryan watched Maya struggle to get her words out, her voice trembling, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Each word seemed to weigh heavily than the last. He could see the guilt written all over her face, the pain of a friend who had carried too much in silence.
Without saying a word, he reached out and gently placed his hand over hers. His touch was warm, steady grounding. "Hey…" he said softly, his voice calm and deep, "you don't have to blame yourself for everything, Maya."
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But I should've been there, Ryan… she was all alone. I wasn't..."
Before she could finish, Ryan moved closer, his tone still low but firm. "You didn't abandon her. You didn't know. Sometimes life pulls us away before we even realize what someone's going through." He brushed a tear away from her face with his thumb, his eyes gentle yet sincere. "Alina wouldn't want you to carry this guilt. You love her, that's what matters."
Maya broke down then, sobbing quietly, and Ryan didn't interrupt her. He just let her cry, his arm coming around her shoulders as he pulled her closer into a comforting embrace.
"It's okay," he whispered. "You're here now. That's what counts. She needs you, and you won't let her face it alone anymore."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke; only the sound of Maya's quiet sobs filled the room. Ryan stayed beside her, his presence steady and reassuring, silently promising that neither of them would let Alina break again.
And Kai felt his chest cave in. He could picture it. Alina, sitting in the darkness of this house, the same house that still smelled faintly of her mother's perfume, surrounded by memories she couldn't bear to face.
He could almost hear the silence she must've drowned in. The way her tears must've fallen quietly, the way she must've tried to be strong but failed every time. She'd been alone. Completely alone. And he hadn't known. He should've been there. This moment, Kai promised himself silently, in his heart, that he'd never let her cry alone again.
And now… now he was watching her fragile body fighting exhaustion, her lips cracked, her face swollen, her hands weak. His vision blurred for a moment.
Ryan noticed the way Kai's shoulders trembled. He'd known him for years and had seen Kai in every kind of situation. Angry. Frustrated. Focused. Cold. But this was different. This was pain. Raw, unfiltered pain.
Maya's voice wavered as she finished softly, "She hasn't eaten for four days. Not a bite. She's been crying nonstop. Her eyes are swollen. She's so weak now she can barely speak."
That broke Kai completely. His breath hitched. His hands clenched tightly into fists.
And before anyone could say anything, he turned and walked away fast, almost stumbling.
Ryan wanted to call after him, but he didn't, and Kai didn't stop. He went straight to the small kitchen, his hands trembling as he searched.
He found a clean bowl, some rice, and a kettle of water. His movements were unsteady but desperate.
Maya stood there watching him, confused. "What is he doing?" she asked softly.
Ryan exhaled deeply. "What he's always done," he murmured. "Taking care of her."
Kai didn't say a word as he prepared the food. His mask hung loose from one ear, forgotten. His eyes glistened with tears that refused to fall. Each grain of rice he touched felt heavier than it should. Every breath he took hurt.
He wasn't thinking as a celebrity or a man with an image to protect. He was just a man broken, scared, helpless, watching the woman he loved fading before his eyes. When he came back, Maya ran quickly and sat on the couch pretending she wasn't the person who was standing near the kitchen door silently watching Kai. Ryan was talking to the doctor on the phone quietly.
Kai placed the bowl on the table beside Alina's bed. He knelt again, the same way he had earlier. Now Maya is standing near the door of Alina's room, and it hit Maya how strange it looked.
He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face with trembling fingers. "You are not only hurting yourself, you are hurting me also," he whispered under his breath. "I'm never leaving you alone." His voice cracked on the last word.
Maya's eyes filled again. She realized there was some kind of connection between them in that quiet room heavy with sorrow, that He didn't just care for Alina. He felt her deeply, painfully, completely.
The clock ticked softly. The saline drip continued. And in that small house where grief and love met, three souls stood: one broken by guilt, one crushed by pain, and one fighting silently against time. Outside, the wind howled softly against the windowpane if even the world mourned with them.