She pressed her hands against her desk and forced herself to breathe. Slowly, she picked up the files she had been working on earlier and tried to focus, but her eyes blurred over the numbers and words. Her heart simply wasn't in it.
Hours passed. She finished what she could, and when it was finally time to leave, she stacked her papers neatly, packed her bag, and walked out without saying goodbye to Ryan. The receptionist gave her a polite nod, but Mia barely noticed. She was too busy holding herself together.
Outside, she hailed a cab, slid into the back seat, and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. The city passed in a blur of lights and shadows.
At home, she dropped her bag on the couch and sighed. The apartment felt painfully empty. She changed into something comfortable, tied her hair back, and headed into the kitchen. Cooking usually helped her relax. She prepared a simple dinner—rice, vegetables, and grilled chicken—then set the table for two out of habit. But when she sat down to eat, the second plate mocked her.
Ryan wasn't there.
After eating only a little, Mia curled up on the couch with a blanket and switched on a film. The moving pictures filled the silence, but her heart wasn't in it.
Not long after, the sound of the front door opening reached her ears. Ryan walked in, his tie loosened, his face tired. He didn't say much, just headed straight for the bathroom. After a while, he emerged, refreshed, and went into the kitchen to serve himself dinner.
Mia's eyes stayed fixed on the screen, though she wasn't really watching.
"If you want to go to the party," she said coldly, not looking at him, "go gently so as not to wake me up."
Ryan paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. He sighed heavily but said nothing.
Later, he walked toward the bedroom, only to find Mia still sitting there watching the film. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she cut him off.
"Oh, you're on your way now? Okay, bye. Greet Suzan for me." Her voice was sharp, her eyes hard as glass. She got up and walked past him without another word.
Ryan's chest ached. He wanted to tell her the truth, but fear tied his tongue. Quietly, he left the house.
Once he reached the woods, the mask dropped. His body shifted, bones snapping and reshaping, fur bursting across his skin. In moments, the man was gone, and a large wolf stood in his place. Ryan stretched his limbs, then sprinted into the darkness, letting the night swallow him.
Back at the apartment, Mia finished the film but felt no joy in it. She turned off the television and wandered into the kitchen. She made herself a glass of fruit juice and carried it back to her room, sipping slowly.
She sat in silence for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Loneliness pressed down on her chest like a heavy weight. I'm here, sulking and feeling miserable, while Ryan is probably out there having fun with Suzan and his friends. The thought made her throat tighten.
Her phone buzzed. An unknown number flashed on the screen. She frowned but answered.
"Hello?"
"Mia. How are you?" The voice was smooth, familiar.
Her heart dropped. "Daniel."
"I'm glad you remembered," he said lightly.
Her grip on the phone tightened. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to hear your voice," he said. "I guess you're home alone tonight."
Her eyes widened. "Are you spying on me?"
"I miss you, Mia."
Rage flared inside her. "I don't want to ever talk to you again." She hung up and tossed the phone aside, her hands shaking.
That night, she tossed and turned, sleep slipping away from her. Eventually, exhaustion dragged her under.
The next morning, Mia woke up groggy. She rolled over—and froze.
Ryan lay beside her, his arm draped over her waist as though he had been there all night. He was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in rhythm.
For a moment, her heart softened. But then anger rushed back, hot and sharp. She carefully wriggled out from his embrace and slipped into the bathroom.
By the time she finished her bath and came out, Ryan was awake. He stretched, yawning, before leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Baby, why didn't you wake me?" he asked, his tone casual.
Mia pushed him away, her face blank. Without answering, she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
Ryan sat there for a moment, stunned. His heart sank.
At the company, Mia tried to bury herself in work. She flipped through files, typed reports, signed documents. But her mind wandered constantly, her chest tight.
Ryan arrived not long after. He stopped at her office, leaning against the doorway.
"Mia," he said softly, "I'm sorry for leaving you last night. It was urgent."
"Okay," she said simply, her tone flat.
He stepped forward, leaning down to kiss her, but she turned her head and pushed him away.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He wanted to argue, to demand that she listen. But instead, he swallowed his anger and walked into his own office.
Inside, Ryan sat heavily at his desk, staring at the papers in front of him. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep lying to her. Every time he looked at her face, her pain stabbed into his heart like claws.
I'll tell her tonight, he decided. No more secrets. She deserves the truth.
He forced himself to focus on work. Today, he had to finish the final part of a crucial deal, and he needed to prepare a new proposition. Hours slipped by.
Later, when he stepped out of his office, he saw Mia asleep at her desk, her cheek pressed against her arm, papers scattered around her.
His heart softened. Quietly, he walked over and carefully lifted her into his arms. But the moment she stirred and realized what was happening, she jerked away, running from him like he had burned her.
Ryan's chest tightened painfully. He clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. He couldn't wait for tonight. Tonight, he would tell her everything. No matter the consequences.