The morning MK's plane took off, the city felt muted — like even the wind understood something sacred had broken.
Shriya hadn't slept.
Not really.
She drifted in and out, waking every hour with a sharp ache tearing through her ribs, the kind that made her wonder how a heart could hurt this much and still beat.
She dragged herself out of bed, moving like her bones were heavier than her body. She splashed cold water on her face, but the reflection staring back at her looked the same:
Red eyes.
Hollow cheeks.
A heartbroken ghost in her own skin.
She checked her phone.
Nothing from MK.
She didn't expect anything.
But the emptiness still burned like salt in an open wound.
Peach slipped into her apartment quietly, holding a warm drink. Even her usually loud voice came out soft.
"Shriya… at least sip something."
"I'm fine," Shriya murmured.
She wasn't.
Peach knew.
Leah knew.
Anyone who looked at her would know.
Shriya sat on the couch and immediately regretted it. MK had napped there. MK had hugged her there. MK had giggled, pouted, kissed her there.
Everything in the room screamed her name.
Her throat tightened.
Her chest burned.
Her eyes prickled again.
She stood abruptly.
"I need to see her."
Peach and Leah exchanged a terrified look.
"Shriya," Leah said carefully, "she doesn't want to see you."
"I don't care."
"You tried," Peach whispered. "She won't open the door."
Shriya didn't answer.
Didn't argue.
She simply grabbed her jacket and walked out.
She reached MK's floor in ten minutes — she didn't even remember driving.
She knocked once.
Twice.
Three times.
Nothing.
She pressed her ear to the door.
Silence.
Her heart thudded painfully.
"She's inside," she whispered to herself, refusing to believe anything else.
She touched the doorknob but stopped, remembering Jesse's fist, Jesse's words, Jesse's fury.
Her forehead pressed against the door.
"Please," she whispered, voice breaking.
"Please open. I know you're hurting. I know I caused it. But I'm still here. I'm still—"
"She's not there."
The voice came from behind her.
Shriya turned.
Rebecca stood at the end of the hallway, holding files, her expression unreadable.
"What do you mean she's not there?" Shriya whispered.
Rebecca walked closer, heels echoing sharply.
"She left," she said softly.
Shriya blinked.
The words didn't register at first.
"What?"
"She left the country this morning."
Something inside Shriya's chest snapped like a fragile bone.
"What… what do you mean she left the country?"
"She accepted the CEO position abroad," Rebecca said.
The hallway tilted.
Her vision blurred.
Her stomach dropped.
"No," Shriya whispered.
"She wouldn't just—"
Rebecca's voice softened.
"She needed distance."
Distance.
A small word with a devastating meaning.
Peach and Leah reached her, both out of breath.
"Shriya? What—?"
"She left," Shriya whispered. Her knees buckled.
Leah caught her.
"She left me."
Peach's hand flew to her mouth.
Leah's eyes darkened with helpless sympathy.
Rebecca spoke again, quieter this time.
"I'm sorry. But she couldn't stay here anymore."
Shriya shook her head, tears blurring everything.
"Because of me."
Rebecca hesitated… then nodded.
"I think she loved you too much to stay."
The words hit like a blade.
Shriya gasped — a sound so broken it didn't even sound human.
Her hands shook violently.
Her legs gave out completely, pulling her to the floor.
Peach and Leah followed her down, but nothing could stop the collapse.
Shriya's palms hit the cold tiles.
Her forehead touched the ground.
Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably.
Her tears fell silently, one by one, hitting the floor between her hands.
She didn't sob.
Didn't wail.
Didn't scream.
Her heartbreak was the quiet, suffocating kind — the kind that destroys a person from the inside out.
Peach held her back.
Leah held her hand.
But nothing helped.
MK was gone.
Gone.
Gone.
And Shriya had no one to blame but herself.
---
THE BOSS CALLS
Her phone buzzed violently against the floor, cutting through the silence.
She didn't want to look.
Didn't want to breathe.
Peach glanced at the screen.
Her eyes widened.
"It's… the boss."
Shriya squeezed her eyes shut.
Of all moments — now?
Peach whispered, "You have to answer."
Shriya's hands shook as she picked up the phone.
"Yes," she whispered, voice cracking.
"Where are you?" The Boss's voice was sharp, cold, impatient. "We have a meeting. Twenty minutes. Warehouse."
Shriya closed her eyes.
Her heart felt like it was bruising her ribs from the inside.
"…Understood."
She hung up.
Peach grabbed her arm gently.
"You're not okay. Don't go."
Shriya forced herself upright, wiping her face.
"I'll fall apart later," she whispered.
"Not in front of him."
Her voice broke halfway through the sentence.
Leah moved quickly.
"Come on. We'll drive."
Shriya nodded, barely holding herself together.
---
THE MEETING
The warehouse was filled with the city's underground elite — the ranked leaders, their men, their shadows.
Normally, Shriya walked into these meetings with confidence sharp enough to cut glass.
Today… she felt like she was walking underwater.
The Boss sat at the head of the table, tall, sharp-eyed, dangerous.
People feared him for a reason.
"Shriya," he said without warmth. "You're late."
She bowed slightly.
"My apologies."
He studied her — eyes narrowing.
Something in her face must've betrayed the chaos inside her.
The meeting began anyway.
Questions flew.
Accusations.
Updates.
Reports.
Shriya tried to focus — she really did — but the words blurred together.
"Shriya," someone asked, "what's your status on the east district asset retrieval?"
Her mind went blank.
A leader scoffed.
"She's not even listening."
Another chimed in, "She's been slipping."
Frustration grew around the table.
The Boss finally spoke.
"Shriya."
She lifted her head slowly.
"If you are becoming incompetent," he said, voice calm but lethal, "someone else will take over."
He looked behind her.
"Jason."
A tall, broad man stepped forward.
"You're in charge now."
Shriya stood.
Her legs felt like they weren't hers.
She moved aside, letting Jason take her seat.
Her world — every identity she had — was collapsing in real time.
She stood with the others, hands clasped behind her back.
The Boss looked at her one last time.
"Fix yourself, Shriya," he said. "You're no use to me like this."
Something in her exhaled — not relief, but resignation.
This…
This was the break she had been forcing herself not to take.
Maybe now she had no choice.
Maybe now she had to face the truth.
MK was gone.
Her work was slipping.
Her life was unraveling.
Maybe this was the universe tearing everything down so she could rebuild.
Or maybe it was just punishment.