The Distance We Didn’t Ask For
1026 Words
It had been five days since the HR meeting.
Five days since Elina’s pulse had quickened every time she entered the building.
Five days since Adrian last messaged her.
Their silence wasn’t cold—it was careful. Deliberate. But it still stung. Every passing hour without a glance, every meeting where he treated her like a stranger, added to a weight in her chest she couldn’t seem to shake.
She understood the reasoning. She really did.
Adrian had built his career from the ground up—his name was tied to excellence, discipline, and professionalism. Being seen as the man who got emotionally involved with a junior staff member wasn’t part of his image. And yet, what they had wasn’t a fling. It had never felt like that.
But what did it matter if he wouldn’t fight for it?
“Elina, you okay?”
Mira, her colleague from the design team, leaned over the shared desk space, frowning with concern.
Elina blinked, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“You’ve been staring at the same slide for ten minutes.”
Elina glanced at the screen. She hadn’t even realized.
Mira’s gaze softened. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and the boss, but… if you’re hurting, don’t deal with it alone.”
Her chest tightened. Was it that obvious?
She nodded. “Thanks. I’m just figuring things out.”
Mira gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before returning to her work.
Elina looked back at the screen, frustration rising in her throat. She didn’t want to be the girl who lost herself over a man. But with Adrian, it never felt like she was just falling—she was crashing into something bigger than both of them.
That Friday, after everyone had left the office, she stayed behind. She told herself it was to finish the client deck—but truthfully, she just didn’t want to go home yet.
She stood by the glass windows, watching the city flicker below.
“Elina.”
His voice.
She turned slowly.
Adrian stood by the door, looking like he hadn’t slept properly in days. He had that same intense look in his eyes—the one she first noticed in the elevator, the day the rain forced them into something neither of them expected.
“I didn’t know you were still here,” he said.
“I didn’t want to be home,” she replied quietly.
He stepped closer, hands buried in his coat pockets. “I’ve missed you.”
She swallowed hard. “You didn’t act like it.”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“By pretending I don’t exist?”
His jaw clenched. “By keeping us safe. If this got out of hand—if anyone made it difficult for you here—I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“You think it hasn’t already been difficult?” she whispered. “Do you know how it feels to walk past you and pretend I’m nothing?”
He took another step forward. “You’re not nothing. You’re the only thing I can’t stop thinking about.”
Silence stretched between them. The kind of silence that breaks or binds.
Finally, he spoke again. “I’ve been offered a regional transfer. Singapore.”
Her heart stuttered. “What?”
“They need someone to restructure their Southeast branch. Six months. Maybe more.”
Elina stared at him, disbelief blooming in her chest.
“You’re… leaving?”
“It’s not finalized,” he said quickly. “I haven’t accepted.”
“But you’re thinking about it.”
He didn’t answer.
The truth was already there.
She looked away, blinking back sudden tears. “So this is how it ends? You run before it gets messy?”
“Elina—”
“I stayed. I listened to HR. I kept my distance. I waited for you to make it make sense. But you… you’re running.”
“I’m trying to fix this before it ruins you.”
“But I am ruined, Adrian!” she snapped. “I’m ruined every time you walk past me like I’m invisible. I’m ruined every night you don’t call. I’m ruined because I actually fell in love with you and you… you’re choosing distance.”
He stepped forward and cupped her face with both hands, his own expression twisted in pain. “I love you too, damn it.”
Her breath caught.
“I love you more than I ever planned to,” he whispered. “But loving you shouldn’t hurt you. And right now, being near me does.”
She trembled. “So what now?”
“I don’t know,” he said, forehead leaning against hers. “But if I go… it won’t be because I stopped loving you. It’ll be because I love you too much to let this destroy you.”
Her tears slipped freely now.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “you should’ve just kissed me again.”
He smiled, broken. “If I do, I won’t stop.”
Then he turned and left.
The weekend was a blur.
Elina turned off her phone, skipped all her group chats, and stayed curled in bed with nothing but her blanket and regret.
Was it wrong to wish he’d been more selfish? To wish that, just once, he chose her over professionalism?
Or was she the selfish one—wanting him when she knew the price he’d pay?
By Sunday night, her chest felt hollow.
Then her phone buzzed.
Adrian Khalid:
I didn’t accept the transfer.
She sat up.
Another message came.
Adrian Khalid:
I don’t want six months away from you. I want six decades with you. I’ll fight. Just say the word.
She stared at the screen, hands trembling.
Then she typed back:
Elina:
Come to me. Now.
Thirty minutes later, a knock at the door.
She opened it.
Adrian stood there, soaked from the unexpected rain, hair dripping, breath ragged.
Without a word, she pulled him in, and he kissed her like a man starved of touch.
And just like that, every inch of distance melted between them.
To be continue..
- Writer
