✧ He was my desire; I was his obsession. ✧
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
"I will not chase you, and I am certain that once you leave, you will vanish from the face of the earth. However, know this, Taara: the instant I noticed a movement on...
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I hadn't been home in three days, and the exhaustion weighed on me like lead. Tokyo's city lights blink through the window of my hotel room, but I didn't see them.
As I am hiding away from my Taara, I know I am a coward. I wonder if my sweetness misses me or even be mad at me for disappearing without notifying her. I don't think she even notices my absence; she hadn't even texted or called me.
All I could think about was her.
Taara's words played on a loop in my mind—her sharp dismissal, her cold indifference. "I am not your girlfriend." Those words had penetrated deeper than I thought possible. I deserved her hate; I knew that. Every insult, every scathing remark—I'd earned them. But it still hurt. More than I wanted to admit.
I sat down at the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, the silence of the room louder than the bustling city outside. I hadn't slept. Working nonstop, flying halfway across the world to Tokyo for a crucial meeting—anything to keep my mind off the ache in my chest.
But nothing worked.
The meeting was important and crucial for the company to get back on track. Yet all I could focus on was the emptiness inside me, the hollow feeling she had left behind when she denied.
I rubbed my forehead, trying to push the memories away, but they came rushing back. And now I was in another country, far away from her, but the distance didn't stop the pain, but I am doing what she wants. She wanted me gone to give her space and I'm doing just that. Despite it feeling like my heart is being ripped open with so much distance between us.
She hated me, and maybe she should; I'm giving her all the reasons to. But that didn't stop the ache in my chest, the hollow feeling gnawing at me.
I looked at my phone, my finger hovering over her name. I couldn't call her, but I wanted to hear her voice. Needed to. Even if it was just another rejection. I deserved that, too.
I returned to India, but I didn't call her. She had made it clear she needed space, and I owed her that—every bit of time she wanted. So, I buried myself in work—anything to keep my mind from drifting back to her.
Days blurred into nights in the office. I barely left, living in a haze of paperwork and reports, drowning in deals and contracts. Even my PA's work became mine. I started scheduling meetings just to fill the empty hours, dragging them out so I didn't have to face the silence, or worse—the thoughts of her.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape her.
I was staring at the screen, but my eyes weren't really reading the words. My fingers moved absently over the keyboard, the clattering of keys filling the quiet.
