She lets out a bitter laugh. “Probably because you deserve it.”
My chest feels tight. Mili’s never spoken to me like this before. Not with such anger, such disappointment. Whatever’s going on, it’s serious, and she clearly blames me for it. But I don’t have time to play guessing games.
I place my hands on the counter and lean in, my voice firm. “I’m not here for riddles, Mili. Just tell me where she is.”
She hesitates, her jaw tightening. For a moment, I think she’s going to tell me to get lost, but then her shoulders slump.
“She’s at the orphanage,” she says, her voice quieter now.
I exhale in relief, but it’s short-lived as Mili continues, “She’s not in a good frame of mind... she’s upset. I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone why, and I’m keeping that promise. But...” She pauses, her eyes locking onto mine, “I trust you to make it right.”
I nod, nerves twisting inside me. Whatever it is, whatever’s hurting Sana, I need to be there for her. Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk out of the café.
I barely register the noise of the vehicles around me as I get back into my car and start the engine. The drive to the orphanage feels like a blur, my mind racing with questions.What’s going on? What could’ve upset her this much? And why didn’t she tell me?
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. This has to stop. Sana needs to learn to let me in instead of shutting me out. Whatever’s bothering her, we’ll face it together. And once I make sure she’s okay, we’re definitely having that conversation. No more hiding. No more secrets. No more walls.
Forty minutes later, I pull up in front of the orphanage. Sitting in the car, I look around, my eyes scanning the area. The place looks quiet, almost deserted, with the sun dipping low, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
And then, I see her. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.
She’s sitting on a weathered wooden bench outside the orphanage building with her back facing me. Her shoulders are slumped as she stares off into the distance.
Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car and make my way towards her. Even the few steps feel like an eternity, the distance between us somehow too far.
I want to call out to her, to say something to make her turn and smile at me, but the words die in my throat. Instead,I take slow steps towards her, closing the space between us, hoping that my presence alone will be enough to pull her out of whatever darkness she’s lost in. I stop a few steps behind her, taking in the way her fingers are clenched together tightly on her lap, her back rigid. She looks so small, so vulnerable, and it makes my chest tighten painfully.
Taking slow, deliberate breaths, I steel myself before quietly walking up to the bench. When I stand beside her, she doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch — completely unaware of my presence. Unbuttoning my coat, I lower myself onto the bench next to her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice soft.
She jerks at the sound of my voice. Her head snaps towards me, her eyes wide in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“You don’t get to ask questions right now,” I reply, holding her gaze. “I asked you first—what’s wrong? Answer that.”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it again, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and something like... pain. Her shoulders tense, and for a second, she looks like she’s about to bolt, but then she lets out a shaky breath.
“What’s wrong, Sana? Please tell me. Don’t shut me out like this,” I beg her, hoping she tells me whatever she’s been keeping bottled up.
There’s a long, aching pause. “I... I… I don’t want to see you again,” she says hesitantly, trying her best to keep her voice cold and distant. “And we should put a stop to all this right now. It’s better this way.”
Her words stab through me, and I stare at her, stunned. Then anger quickly rises to the surface. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She exhales slowly, her guarded eyes fixed on me, her pale face unreadable. “You knew from the beginning... I wasn’t ready for this. I told you I didn’t want complications. And now... now that I’ve thought about it, I know it’s the right choice. I don’teven know what it was, but whatever it was, it’s done between us.”
I stare at her, disbelief tightening my throat. “You didn’t just say that. What about everything we feel for each other, Sana? The way we fit, the way we—” I stop, the memory of our kiss flooding back, the heat, the electricity. “What about the moments we’ve shared? Our kiss—wasn’t that special?”
She flinches, but her voice is cold when she answers. “Don’t tell me you expect a relationship with every woman you kiss.” Her words are sharp, like knives. “That was a mistake. A moment of weakness... and it won’t happen again.”
My blood boils, anger mixing with hurt. “A mistake? That’s what you’re calling it?” I can feel my control slipping. “Don’t you dare insult my feelings for you and don’t you dare tell me that was a mistake or a fucking moment of weakness.”
“Then you call it whatever you want. A misjudgment. A fling. But it doesn’t change anything. The truth is I don’t want this.”
I clench my fists, my heart pounding furiously. “Is it so easy for you to end it just like that, with the snap of a finger? After everything… you’re just going to pretend it meant nothing?”
Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, I see her mask crack, pain flickering across her face before she looks away. “It meant nothing.”
The finality in her voice knocks the breath out of me.What the hell? How did we even end up here?How did I lose her before I even had her?
