His jaw tightened. ''Don't play dumb. You've been circling me like a shadow. First at the office, then when I jog. Then outside my room, and now here. What exactly do you want from me?''
Maya's heart stuttered. She opened her mouth, but he didn't let her speak. His voice rose, sharp enough to slice through the quiet hall.
''When you came to my office, I was quiet. I let it go. When you disturbed my jogging, I was quiet. Even when you interrupted my sleep, I ignored it. But not now, Mrs.'' The title he used for her felt like a slap, formal, distant, reminding her of the gulf between them.
His eyes locked onto hers, cold and unflinching. ''Why do you keep following me'' Ryan's voice thundered in the otherwise quiet corridor. "You can't even understand that I've been ignoring you, that I don't want to talk to you. Yet you keep pursuing me!"
The words slammed into her chest. For a second, Maya just stood there, stunned, staring at the man who looked at her as if she were nothing but a nuisance. She had chased him with a hundred unsaid words bottled in her heart, but hearing him spell out the rejection so bluntly. So harshly. Stripped her bare.
Maya clenched her fists at her side, her knuckles pale in the fluorescent hospital light. ''Following you?'' she repeated, her voice trembling at first but slowly gaining strength. ''Do you even hear yourself?'' "Do you… Really think I'm chasing you?" Her voice cracked on the last word, and she laughed bitterly at herself.
Ryan didn't flinch, didn't move. Just stood there, expression carved. They held that same hard wall, the same unshaken coldness that made her feel as though she were clawing at stone.
Maya's throat tightened, but she pushed through the ache. ''Do you have any idea why I'm even here? Someone so close to me ... He's lying in that room, fighting through pain you can't even imagine. He had no one else, and I came because I couldn't let him face it alone. And yet...'' her voice cracked raw with indignation,'' ...you look at me and assume I'm here for you''
Ryan's brow furrowed, but his silence pressed down on her more than this accusation.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, words spilling faster than she could control. ''I don't care about your jogging session, or your precious office hours, or your perfect beauty sleep. Do you think I don't have a life? That I'm... chasing after you for the thrill of it? You're not the center of my world''
''You said you ignored me...'' she continued, voice trembling with equal parts anger and hurt. ''...Maybe you did. But did you ever think about how cruel that feels? How demeaning it is to be treated like some insect buzzing around your head, not even worth a real answer'' She had tried, again and again, to bridge the distance between them, with lighthearted jokes, casual greetings, little efforts to connect, and every time, he brushed her off like she was nothing.
She finally looked away, swallowing hard. ''I wasn't following you; I was just existing near you. And maybe that was my mistake''
''Wow, great story, if you think I will believe you and believe in your fake story and these emotions that you try to copy from the dramas, then, I'm sorry, I wouldn't melt for you.'' He was just standing there in front of her and uttered the most painful words while maintaining eye contact.
She swallowed her tears, lifting her chin, forcing her pride to hold her brokenness in place. "Fine," she said, her voice trembling but her back straight. "Keep thinking whatever you want. You think I'm lying? You think I don't have anything better to do than run after a man who doesn't even bother to see me as a human being?"
She turned back and was about to go from there. But suddenly stopped, turning on her heel. She laughed again, hollow. "You don't know me, Ryan. You never did."
And without giving him the satisfaction of watching her cry, she turned on her heel and walked away. Her heels clicked against the floor, each step heavy with anger and humiliation.
Ryan stood rooted, but instead of regret, there was only annoyance in his chest. She's pretending. She'll get tired eventually, he told himself, brushing off the image of her trembling eyes.
Alina didn't dare to go to that ward again and watch that little girl fight for her life alone. The city stretched before her, its lights blurred by her unshed tears. The cool night breeze kissed her cheeks, but it couldn't ease the heaviness pressing down on her chest. Like a reminder that she was still alive, still breathing, while inside the hospital walls, a small child fought for her life. Alina wrapped her arms around herself, staring up at the stars that seemed so far away, and suddenly she felt like that little girl wasn't a stranger at all.
The way the girl had clung to Kai's hand, terrified of being left behind, had pierced something deep inside her, A memory she had buried.
Her father's face.
She was only ten when she lost him. One moment he was there, ruffling her hair, telling her she was his brave little soldier, the next he was gone, snatched away by an illness that showed no mercy, no warning, no second chances.
She remembered the hospital corridor, the sterile smell, the adults whispering words she didn't understand. She remembered waiting for him to come back, waiting for that warm hand to take hers again. But he never did. That emptiness, that sudden silence in her world, had never left.
And tonight, when she saw the little girl's eyes, afraid, searching, yet still clinging to hope, Alina had seen herself. The child she once was, begging the universe not to take her father away. Tears blurred her vision as she whispered into the night sky, "Please… don't let her go through what I did. Don't take away her chance to live, to laugh, to dream."
Her voice cracked, breaking into sobs that she tried to muffle against her sleeve. But the memories came flooding back anyway, birthdays without her father, school plays with no one in the audience for her, nights when she curled into her pillow wishing she could trade anything, everything, just to feel his embrace one more time.
Maybe that's why she was drawn to Kai. Not because he was famous, not because he was handsome, but because when she saw him with that girl, she saw a kind of love she had always craved: a steady presence, a promise of protection. Something she had missed all her life.
Alina dropped to her knees, the rough concrete pressing into her skin. This time she prayed not for herself, not even for Kai, but for the little girl. "Please let her live. Please let her fight through this. Give her what I never had the chance to grow up with love, with hope. Don't let her story end like mine did."
The stars above blurred and danced through her tears, and for a moment, she felt like a child again, helpless and small. But beneath that helplessness was something else, too, a quiet fire. She couldn't save her father. But maybe… just maybe… she could save herself by believing that this little girl's story would be different. And as she wiped her tears, Alina realized that for the first time in years, she wasn't just mourning the past. She was pleading for a future.
The corridor outside the operating theatre was a strange place, too white, too bright, and too silent except for the echo of footsteps and the faint beeping of machines from distant rooms. The little girl lay on the stretcher, her small frame almost swallowed by the oversized hospital gown. Her tiny hands clutched the edge of the blanket like it was the only shield she had against the world.
Her eyes were wide and nervous. Her lips trembled. She had been brave earlier, joking and laughing with Kai, but now that the moment was real, fear seeped back into her eyes. The kind of fear only a child could show, raw and unhidden.
Kai bent down, His tall frame bent so his eyes were level with hers, cap pulled low, mask covering half his face, but his eyes softened as he looked at her. He placed his hand gently over hers. "Hey," he said quietly, almost like he was afraid the silence of the hospital would break if he spoke too loudly, "you're shaking."
The girl sniffled. "I...I don't want to go in there."
"You're scared?" he asked. She nodded, tears threatening to spill.
Kai leaned closer, his voice lowering to the warm, steady tone he used in his dramas, the one that always carried strength. "Do you remember what we talked about?"
Her eyes darted up at him, uncertain. "That you're braver than me," he reminded her, a faint smile tugging his lips.
The little girl blinked, surprised. "Me? But you… You fight in dramas. You punch the bad guys, you jump from buildings…"
"I fight villains on screen, sure… but you? You're fighting something real. That makes you stronger than any hero I've ever played."
Her small chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "B-but what if I lose?"
Kai's grip on her hand tightened, just enough for her to feel his presence. "You won't. Because remember what we promised?"
She blinked at him, remembering.
"We said once you win this fight," he continued, his eyes locked on hers, "I'll take you to the amusement park. Every Sunday. Rollercoasters, cotton candy, the works. And I don't break promises."
This time, her lips twitched into a faint smile.
"Good girl," he whispered. Then, with his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny plushie he had given her earlier, a miniature version of him, dressed in one of his drama costumes. He tucked it into her hands. "Take him with you. Whenever you feel scared in there, just squeeze him tight and remember I'm right here, waiting."
The girl hugged the plushie close to her chest. Her tears slowed.
"Good," Kai said softly, brushing her hair back from her forehead. His eyes shone, but he blinked the emotion away, keeping his voice calm. "Now, go show everyone how strong you are. Show them my little warrior."
The doctors and nurses gently wheeled her towards the OT doors. She craned her neck, looking back at him one last time. "Promise you'll wait?"
Kai raised his hand in a salute. "I'll be right here when you come out. Deal?"
"Deal," she whispered, before the doors closed behind her.
And then Kai stood frozen in the corridor, staring at the closed doors, gripping his own fists as though holding himself together.