Kai slammed the door of his house behind him the moment he stepped in, the echo ringing through the empty rooms. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, every breath tasting like guilt and fire. He dragged a hand through his hair, fingers trembling.
"What did I do…" he whispered to the silent walls. "What the hell did I do?"
He could still hear Alina's voice. Her gasp. Her pain. He could still feel her wrist under his hand. The way she had cried out. A sharp ache shot through his chest.
"Did I… did I hurt her?" Kai asked himself out loud, pacing across the living room like a man running from his own shadow.
Then he stopped abruptly. His answer came from the bitterness in his own voice. "Of course you did."
He breathed harshly, the truth hitting him, burning him. He had hurt her on purpose. And the sickening part? It wasn't a mistake. He had meant to. He leaned against the wall, dropping his head back, eyes squeezing shut.
He didn't want Alina to come close to him. He didn't want to go close to her. Everything that happened in his office, every cold word, every harsh twist of her wrist, every cruel sentence, Kai had done it knowingly. Deliberately. Desperately.
Because the more she came near him, the more something inside him cracked open. Something terrifying. Something dangerous. Something he had no name for. He pushed himself off the wall and stared at his hands, his fingers trembling visibly now.
"What is wrong with me…" he muttered, voice breaking.
Whenever he is with Alina… He felt something. A pull. A force. A strange, magnetic connection that burned through his chest and made the world blur, and it scared him. Not because it was weak but because it was too strong. Too real. Too consuming.
When she stood close to him, nothing else existed. Not his anger. Not his pain. Not his fears.
Not the years he had spent locking himself away. Only her. Her voice. Her eyes. Her breath mixed with his. And that was exactly what he feared the most.
He didn't want to be attached to anyone. He didn't want to feel anything. He didn't want to let anyone break the walls he had spent years building. And Alina… She broke them just by standing there.
He swallowed, breath shaking, and looked down at his hand again. "This hand…" he whispered, lifting it slowly.
"This same hand hurt her." His voice trembled. The guilt twisted deeper.
"This is the hand…" he whispered again, as if confessing to his own soul, "that made her cry."
He stared at his palm, disgust rising in his throat. "How could I…" he choked, unable to finish the sentence.
His chest tightened painfully. His vision blurred at the edges. He needed to feel that pain. He deserved it. Suddenly, he walked into the kitchen. His steps were fast, uneven, driven by something sharp inside him.
He reached for the glass sitting on the counter. A simple, clear wine glass. He picked it up.
Held it. Then gripped it tighter. And tighter. And tighter... Until CRACK!
The glass shattered violently in his fist. Sharp pieces dug into his palm, slicing through skin. Blood rushed out immediately, warm and bright, dripping down his wrist, falling to the floor in small red drops.
Kai inhaled sharply but did not loosen his grip. He stared at the blood running down his hand… and at the broken glass embedded in his skin… at the pain blooming through his nerves…
And he whispered, voice low, broken, tremblin,g "You deserve it." Another drop of blood fell.
"You hurt her.... he said to himself, barely breathing ....You don't get to be fine."
He squeezed again, pushing the glass deeper into his palm. His body shook from the pain, but he didn't stop. This was punishment. A punishment he believed he deserved. Every sting, every throb, every burning pulse of pain. He wanted all of it.
Because he had caused her pain earlier. Because her cry was still echoing inside him. Because her eyes, wide and startled, wouldn't leave his mind. Blood dripped down to the tiles. His breaths grew ragged. His heartbeat thundered.
The kitchen smelled faintly of iron. His fingers trembled violently. But he didn't stop staring at his ruined hand.
"This is what you deserve," he whispered again, softer this time, almost like a broken lullaby to himself.
He wasn't crying. But something inside him was breaking silently. And he let it break. Because maybe… maybe if he punished himself enough… maybe if he bled enough… Maybe the ache in his chest would stop. But it didn't. It only grew heavier.
Because hurting himself didn't erase the truth. He hurt her because he was afraid of how much he wanted her. Because he was terrified of what he felt when she looked at him. Because she made him forget every scar he had buried inside.
Kai slid down the counter slowly, sitting on the floor with his injured hand dripping blood beside him. His breathing slowed. His eyes lowered. His lashes trembled. And in a small, fragile voice that no one else heard, he whispered. "Alina… stay away from me… before I lose myself completely."
By the time Alina reached her house, the pain in her wrist had only grown sharper. It throbbed with every heartbeat, pulsing heat through her skin. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, breathing out heavily.
"Ow…" she whispered under her breath.
She lifted her hand to look at it. Her wrist was completely red, skin swollen around the joint, the marks of Kai's grip still burning on her.
Her chest tightened not from the pain, but from the memory. The way he had twisted her hand. The way she had cried out. The way his eyes had looked cold, hurting, conflicted.
She shook her head quickly, trying to push the thought away. She walked to the sofa, sank into it, and let her head fall back against the cushion. She had barely closed her eyes when...
The doorbell rang... She groaned, irritated.
"Who now?" she muttered, dragging herself up.
She opened the door. Standing there was a woman in a white coat, holding a small medical bag.
"Yes?" Alina asked, confused.
"Good evening. We received a call from you, ma'am," the female doctor said politely.
Alina frowned. "I think you have the wrong address."
The doctor checked her file. "This is Alina Carter's residence, right?"
"YesThat's's me. But I didn't call any doctor."
The woman looked at her wrist, her expression softening. "You're hurt, ma'am."
Alina's eyes widened. How did she know that? She hadn't told anyone. No one had seen her wrist since she left Kai's office. Except… Kai. Her breath caught.
He… did this? She quickly shook her head.
"I'm fine....Really.....Thank you... but… no." She politely sent the doctor away.
The doctor walked down the stairs, and as soon as she stepped out, she took out her phone and dialled a number.
"Sir," she said softly, "she refused. She didn't receive treatment."
And before Alina could even return to her sofa, the bell rang again. Alina stared at the door, disbelief on her face. "No way…"
She opened it. A second woman doctor stood there. This one is older, wearing glasses and carrying an orthopaedic kit.
"I am a bone specialist," the doctor introduced herself. "We received a message that you need urgent treatment."
Alina blinked. "What message? I didn't call!"
"Ma'am, you should not ignore bone injuries," the doctor insisted gently.
Alina exhaled sharply. "Thank you, doctor, but I am fine."
She sent her away, too. The second doctor walked out and called the same number. "She refused," she reported. And moments later... Buzzz
Alina's eyes widened. "No. No, no, no, no..." She opened the door again, already knowing what she'd see. A third female doctor stood there.
"Hello, I'm a neurologist," she said. "We got a call that your wrist nerves might be damaged."
Alina stared at her, mouth open. "Again? Listen...I DIDN'T call you!"
The neurologist nodded calmly. "I understand. But if you don't treat a nerve injury, you might lose movement."
"Madam, PLEASE... I'm fine!" Alina groaned, and she sent her away.
The neurologist, also called Kai. "She refused treatment, sir."
Alina closed the door after two seconds of silence. And then... Buzzz. She almost screamed. Whenever she opened the door, there was another doctor. Then another. Then another. Different faces. Different specialties. But all female.
Wound specialist. Joint specialist. Sports injury doctor. Skin doctor. Muscle therapist. Pain management specialist. Physiotherapist. And the list went on.....
The same lines. The same gentle voice. The same message:
"We received a call from you."
"You're hurt, ma'am."
"You need treatment."
"Please don't ignore it."
After the tenth doctor, Alina decided not to sit. After the fifteenth, she began rubbing her forehead. After the twentieth, she was ready to throw her shoe at the door. After the thirtieth, her soul left her body.
The only common thing was that there were only women doctors, no men. Not one single male doctor. She didn't need more clues. This was all Kai's planning. All of it.
His stubbornness. His silent care. His irritating protectiveness. His way of showing concern without admitting anything. She brought her knees up on the sofa and buried her face in them.
"Why is he like this…" she whispered.
First, he twisted her wrist and hurt her, pushed her away. And now he couldn't stand the idea of her being in pain. It made her heart squeeze, painfully soft.
When the thirty-fifth doctor rang the bell, Alina didn't even wait for the doctor to explain.
"Come in," she said tiredly, stepping aside.
The doctor entered, examined her wrist carefully, applied a cooling gel, wrapped it with a soft brace, and gave her a few instructions.
The moment the doctor left. Alina whispered to herself: "So… he wasn't going to leave me alone until I took treatment."