RAINE’S POV
It had been two weeks. Two empty, long weeks since I last heard Cyril’s voice.
I’d tried calling him a few times the day I moved in, but he never picked up. Not once. He didn’t even bother to call me back. Instead, he sent a word.
“Busy”
That was it. No “hey,” no “sorry,” not even a goddamn period at the end. Just ‘busy’, like I wasn’t worth a well typed message.
I swear, the lackadaisical tone the word interpreted packed a punch. I stared at it for like minutes straight, trying not to lose my mind.
I wanted to reply with a hundred questions—Busy with what? Busy with who? Are you okay? Do you still care?
But I held back.
I typed “okay,” sent it, and stared at the screen like some heartbroken i***t.
Now, two weeks later, I was still stuck in the same loop. I missed him.
