Chapter 2

“Deviana! Get me a drink!”

Adrian dropped himself onto the long sofa in the living room, his voice loud and tired. His suit, still crumpled and unbuttoned, clung to his body, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. The late afternoon air filled the room, but the silence was too sharp—as if answering his call with emptiness.

No reply.

No footsteps.

No sound.

Only the hum of the air conditioner and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Adrian frowned, his eyes shifting toward the stairs that led to the bedroom upstairs. “Deviana? Did you hear me? I asked for water!”

Still no answer.

Soft footsteps came from the kitchen. Aunt Emely, the long-time housemaid, appeared wearing an apron and carrying a small tray.

“Sir, Madam Deviana has left,” she said carefully.

Adrian shot up from his seat. “Left? What do you mean… left where?”

Aunt Emely lowered her eyes and placed the glass on the table. “I’m not sure, Sir. But she hasn’t been home for a week now. Since that day… since the wedding was called off.”

“She wouldn’t dare leave me!” Adrian scoffed, then gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “She’s too obsessed with me. That’s not like Deviana. She’s probably playing some dramatic game again.”

But something in his chest pinched.

He quickly pulled out his phone, opened his contacts, and tapped on Deviana’s chat—empty. No messages. No missed calls.

He hit the call button.

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable or out of service.”

Adrian hissed. “Damn it…”

He threw the phone onto the sofa and began pacing the room, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“She thinks silence will make me crawl back to her? Dream on! I’m not a man you can play with!”

Yet his eyes returned to the phone. Once more, he checked. Still no messages.

He grabbed his car keys and stormed out of the house.

---

The night sky sparkled with stars as Adrian stepped into his usual nightclub. Disco lights spun, the floor shook with bass, and the air was thick with alcohol and perfume.

At the bar, Adrian downed a glass of scotch in one go.

“Another,” he said flatly to the bartender.

Beautiful women approached, some flirting openly. But Adrian remained unmoved. His eyes were vacant, his mind elsewhere—locked on one name: Deviana.

He opened his phone again. Still no messages.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

“Why do I even feel this way? This is ridiculous,” he muttered.

But logic never wins against the heart. He tapped her contact again, tried to call—and froze at what he saw.

This number has been blocked.

“What?” Adrian’s face flushed red. He stood abruptly, snatching his phone like a madman.

“She blocked me?” he seethed. “You think this will make me come crawling after you, Deviana? You’re delusional!”

His fists clenched, trying to hold back the boiling rage. He sat back down, but restlessly this time. Not even the pounding music could drown out the chaos in his head.

He growled under his breath, biting his lower lip.

“She dares to leave without a word. Then disappears. Then blocks me? You think this is some kind of game you can win? You think I’ll chase you and apologize? No, Deviana. Not now. Not ever!”

But his words began to sound like excuses. A part of him knew—he was just denying something real.

He downed his third scotch. This time, faster. Rougher.

Suddenly, his phone screen lit up—just a promotional email. But Adrian lunged for it, eyes filled with desperate hope.

“Damn it! Not her…”

He slumped in his seat, staring up at the club’s flashing ceiling of purples and reds.

“Why aren’t you calling me, Deviana? Weren’t you the one always chasing after me? Didn’t you say you couldn’t live without me? So why can you disappear like this?”

He took a deep breath. The glass was empty, but the emptiness inside him was greater.

Unable to take it anymore, he stood, tossed some bills on the counter, and walked out of the club. The night air hit him—cold and biting, though not as cold as his chest.

His steps were sluggish. His head hung low.

His car wasn’t far. But he didn’t get in right away. He leaned against the door and looked up at the sky.

“Do I… miss you, Deviana? Or am I just wounded that you bruised my pride?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then murmured with a hoarse voice:

“Have I lost you… or have I just lost control over you?”

---

Behind the tall windows of a luxury apartment in another city, Deviana stood staring at her phone. On the screen, Adrian’s name sat beneath a blocked outgoing call.

She exhaled.

“You’ll never change, Adrian. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

She set the phone down and walked away—leaving the past behind.

Adrian whispered, almost like a prayer:

“If you think I’m going to come looking for you… you’re dead wrong.

But why… why do I still want to know… where you are?”