Anya and Zain's story was like a tangled thread—whenever they came close, they somehow drifted apart. There was feeling, but also silence.
They left for the office, and on the back seat of the car, an uncomfortable silence hung between them.
"Zain, could you please stop the car here?" Anya said, her voice carrying a hint of urgency. "I need to buy something."
Zain's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Alright. Should I come with you?"
Anya quickly refused, "No, I'll go alone." There was a strange uneasiness in her eyes—perhaps the restlessness of accepting the growing distance between them.
"Fine." Zain parked the car.
Anya stepped out and walked toward a nearby shop. Just then, she saw a girl—wearing a red fancy shirt and a long black skirt, dark glasses covering her eyes. Behind her, a car was speeding toward her.
Anya felt her heartbeat race. "Miss! There's a car behind you!"
Without thinking, she ran and grabbed the girl's hand, pulling her back forcefully. Both stumbled and fell to the ground. The girl's head landed on Anya's hands, scratching her arms and legs. The girl had a small wound on her forehead, and a little blood trickled down.
A crowd quickly gathered. Anya and the girl stood up. Anya turned toward the driver, her eyes burning with anger. "Can't you see where you're going? If you want to chat with your girlfriend, park the car and talk! Otherwise, the result won't be good!" Her face was flushed with rage.
Just then, Zain pushed through the crowd. The girl saw him and, without saying a word, ran straight into his arms. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Mochi... I came to you…" she sobbed. "I hurt my head." With that, she fainted in his arms.
Zain panicked. Worry was written all over his face. He lifted her up carefully and hurried toward his car. His entire focus was on the unconscious girl.
Anya watched them leave. A bitter smile spread across her lips, but her eyes were empty.
"She's back…" she whispered to herself. "His first love. Maybe my chapter in his life ends here." Her heart pounded painfully, but she stood still, refusing to let herself fall apart. "This relationship is just a contract marriage," she repeated silently, trying to console herself in vain. She looked at her wounds and didn't let a single tear fall.
Just then, a taxi stopped near her. The driver rolled down the window. "Ma'am, if you'd like, I can drop you at the hospital. You're hurt."
Anya tried to steady her voice. "No, that's not necessary. Just drop me at 'Empire.'" She gave him her office address and got into the cab.
The driver started the car. "I saw how you saved that girl's life. Her boyfriend really cares for her! He immediately rushed her to the hospital. But you got hurt too—still, you don't want to go?"
Anya gripped the handle of the back seat tightly. "Could you please roll up the windows? And… don't look back."
The driver rolled up the glass and said softly, "Alright, ma'am."
As soon as the windows closed, Anya's lips trembled, and slowly, her tears began to fall. She broke down silently.
"It hurts so much I can't even understand it," she thought to herself. "Why did she come back? I forgot that I'm unlucky when it comes to love… and maybe this time too, I'll lose him." A suffocating heaviness filled her chest.
"Ma'am, we've reached your office." The driver's voice broke her thoughts.
"Thank you," she said, taking out money from her purse. "Here, please take this."
The driver shook his head. "No need, ma'am. Just clean your wound; otherwise, it might get infected."
Anya frowned slightly. "Thank you, but I don't like taking favors."
The driver chuckled. "You're like a sister to me. You saved that girl's life—you're a good person. Please, keep your money."
"Alright then. Thank you again." Anya bowed slightly in gratitude.
The driver nodded. "Take care of yourself."
"You too," she replied, then hurried inside the office.
She went straight to the washroom, cleaned her wounds, and sat down at her desk. She noticed that Huan Jing wasn't there. She'd texted the night before saying she and Tiang Zhao Jing were going shopping.
Anya thought bitterly, "Who even cares about me anymore?" She opened her laptop.
Just then, Daichen came over. "Why are you so late?"
Before Anya could answer, his eyes fell on her injured hand. His brows furrowed. "Where did you get that? Come on, we're going to the hospital right now! It could get worse." His voice held both concern and authority.
Anya tried to refuse. "It's fine, I can handle it myself."
But Daichen didn't listen. He took her hand and almost pulled her along. "For me, come to the hospital."
Anya looked at him and smiled faintly—an honest, genuine smile. "You're the only one who truly cares," she thought to herself.
Daichen took her to the same hospital where Zain had brought Minami.
As soon as they entered, Anya saw Zain supporting Minami by her hand. Anya forced a polite smile, hiding her pain.
"Who's that girl with the boss?" Daichen asked.
"I don't know," Anya said softly, her tone lifeless.
Zain noticed them. He saw Daichen holding Anya's hand. Zain turned to Minami. "I'll be back, okay? You're fine now, you can manage."
Then he walked toward Anya. His face showed concern, but there was also a silent question in his eyes. "Why are you here?" he asked coldly.
Before Anya could speak, Daichen answered sharply, "Why do people come to hospitals? For treatment! Can't you see she's hurt? That's why we're here." His voice matched Zain's rudeness with calm defiance.
Zain looked at Anya and restrained himself. "Sorry."
Just then, Minami hurried toward them. "Mochi, do you know her?" she asked, pointing at Anya.
Zain nodded.
Anya replied before he could speak, her tone firm but her eyes avoiding his. "Yes, he's just my boss, and I'm just an employee. What a coincidence." She glanced at Zain—just one look that said everything their relationship couldn't.
Minami noticed Anya's injuries. "You saved my life and got hurt because of me. Can I at least pay for your treatment?"
"No, that won't be necessary," Anya said sternly.
Zain interrupted, "You're badly hurt. I'll stay with you."
Anya's face remained unreadable. "No, that's not needed. Daichen is with me. You don't need to worry."
Daichen tightened his grip on her hand and looked at Zain. "Talk later. First, let her get treated." He led Anya away.
Zain stood there silently. Even with Minami beside him, his eyes followed Anya. He remembered the moment in the café when he had pulled her hand in front of everyone. A deep sadness washed over him. He exhaled slowly and turned toward the exit, but the image of Anya's wounded hand and Daichen holding it refused to leave his mind.