Chapter 2: Picking My Calls

John didn’t wait at the door. Instead, he turned back, walked to his parked car, got in, and drove away.

When Lala returned to the doorway, she froze—John was gone. She stepped outside and scanned left and right, her face tightening with confusion. Annoyance rose in her chest as she called him again and again, but he didn’t answer.

“Why did he leave?” she muttered, pacing. Frustrated, she tugged at her hair, went back inside, changed her outfit, then grabbed her keys and drove straight to John’s house.

Philip answered the door.

“John hasn’t come home,” he told her.

Lala forced a polite nod. “Okay… thank you. I’ll check for him at his office.”

Philip nodded as she hurried away, his brows knitting in thought.

At John’s office building, security stopped her at the entrance.

“Miss, you can’t go in.”

Lala frowned, eyebrows drawn together. “Why?”

The guard’s voice was firm. “The department is under investigation. No one is allowed inside right now—especially visitors. You need to leave.”

Lala clenched her jaw but tried one last time. “Please tell the general manager, John, that I came to see him.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and left.

Inside, John sat in his office, expression unreadable. He was the one who had ordered security not to let Lala in.

John’s office door swung open and Steven—his best friend at work—walked in.

“Dude, your girl just left a few minutes ago.”

John only shrugged, unfazed. “I know.”

Steven studied him for a moment. “Are you and Lala fighting? Lately you’ve been treating her terribly. What’s going on?”

John leaned back in his chair. “Nothing.”

Steven frowned. “You better not be doing this because of her friend. If you’re hurting Lala because of Hannah, that’s messed up.”

John shook his head, then said plainly, “I don’t feel the way I used to about Lala. I’ve fallen out of love with her.”

Steven went quiet, staring at him, at a loss for words. He’d always believed John and Lala would be getting married any day.

Then he sighed. “I don’t think you should give up on her. She’s a good woman, she loves you, she understands you. She’s right for you—not Hannah.”

John waved him off. “That’s for me to decide.”

Steven let the topic drop.

After leaving John’s office, Lala called him again and again, but he didn’t answer. She went back to work, and when her day ended, she drove straight to his place—only to find he wasn’t home.

“I think you should text him,” Philip told her. “John hasn’t been home for days.”

“Thank you,” Lala said, grateful.

She left with her brows drawn tight, her mind racing. Where had John been going? She didn’t remember him renting an apartment or buying a house. The uncertainty made her chest tighten with frustration.

She got into her car and drove home.

The next day, she hurriedly bought breakfast, packed it, and headed to the company where John worked.

She waited in the parking lot, utterly exhausted. Sitting in her car, she dozed off without meaning to. When her eyes snapped open, she saw John walking away toward the elevator.

She jumped out of the car and shouted at the top of her voice. “John! John!”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her. Lala ran after him, confusion and frustration tightening in her chest, but John stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

She pressed the button and got into another elevator. When she reached John’s floor, a security guard stopped her.

“Miss, you can’t go in there without permission.”

“Please,” Lala pleaded. “John is my boyfriend. I just want to see him.”

“Unless he authorizes it, ma’am, I don’t have the authority to let you in without instructions.”

“If I call him, will you let me in?” she asked quickly.

The guard nodded.

Lala called John once, then again. He didn’t pick up. Helpless, she swallowed hard, not knowing what else to do.

“Please,” she tried again, turning back to the guard. “Can you go and tell him his girlfriend is waiting here?”

“I can’t,” the guard said firmly.

Lala stood there for a few minutes, then turned away in resignation. She went back to her car and drove to work. All day, she could barely focus.

When she clocked out, her manager told her, “Tomorrow is your day off. You’ll be attending a charity function with me—Dr. Celestine Foundation.”

Lala nodded, took the invitation card, and drove home. That evening, she called John again and again, but he didn’t answer.

The next day, she went to the function with her superior. At the entrance, where invitations were being checked, she saw John—about to walk in.

“John,” Lala called, hurrying toward him.

When she got close, her eyes filled with tears. “Why aren’t you picking up my calls?” she asked.