The Habit of Missing Someone
1117 Words
Sophia woke up late for the first time in almost six months.
The realization alone was disturbing.
Her phone showed 8:43 AM.
Three missed calls from her assistant.
Seven unread emails.
One message from Adrian.
Did you make it upstairs alive or should I contact building security?
Sophia stared at the message longer than necessary before realizing something equally alarming:
She smiled.
Actual smiling.
Before coffee.
Unacceptable behavior.
She tossed the phone onto the bed immediately like the device itself was responsible.
Dangerous man.
The apartment still felt unusually quiet after the emotional exhaustion of the hospital night. Sunlight spilled softly through the floor-to-ceiling windows while Jakarta traffic moved distantly below.
Sophia sat up slowly, exhaustion lingering heavily in her body.
Then paused.
Her blazer from last night rested folded neatly across the chair near the entrance.
She frowned.
Sophia definitely did not remember putting it there.
Memory returned slowly:
falling asleep in the car,
Adrian waking her gently,
walking into the apartment half-conscious.
Had he folded it?
The thought settled somewhere dangerously soft inside her chest.
Because no one had ever taken care of details for her before.
Not small ones.
Not gentle ones.
Sophia immediately stood up before her thoughts became emotionally embarrassing.
⸻
By noon, she was back inside the office pretending to function normally.
Keyword:
pretending.
“You look terrible,” her assistant informed her helpfully.
“How motivating.”
“You also wore your shirt inside out earlier.”
Sophia froze.
“…What?”
Her assistant burst into laughter.
“Oh my God. You really are losing your mind.”
Sophia immediately checked her reflection through the black office window.
Fortunately the shirt was fine.
She narrowed her eyes.
“You enjoy risking your employment.”
“I enjoy witnessing whatever emotional crisis this is.”
“There’s no crisis.”
“Mhm.”
Sophia ignored her and continued reviewing project reports.
Or attempted to.
Because every few minutes her thoughts drifted again.
To the hospital.
To Adrian.
To the way he looked at her when she admitted she was tired.
Annoying.
Her phone buzzed against the desk.
Adrian again.
Sophia hesitated before opening the message.
Eat lunch today.
Not:
How are you?
Not:
Good morning.
Just an instruction.
Sophia typed immediately:
You’re becoming controlling.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
You passed out in my car from exhaustion.
Sophia frowned.
I was resting my eyes.
For twenty minutes?
Rude.
Before she could answer again, another message arrived:
Lunch. 1 PM.
No work excuses today.
Sophia stared at the screen.
Then:
You’re very demanding for someone who isn’t my boyfriend.
The reply came dangerously fast.
Good. That means I still have room for promotion.
Sophia choked on her coffee.
Her assistant looked alarmed across the office.
“…Should I call medical assistance?”
“No.”
“Was it him?”
Sophia glared silently.
“That bad, huh?”
⸻
At exactly 1 PM, Adrian appeared downstairs in the office lobby.
Not because Sophia agreed.
Because apparently this man had stopped respecting rejection entirely.
The receptionist smiled immediately upon seeing him.
Traitor.
Sophia stepped out of the elevator already irritated.
“You can’t just appear at my workplace unexpectedly.”
Adrian looked calm as ever.
“You ignored my messages for three days last week.”
“That’s unrelated.”
“It feels related.”
Unfortunately, several employees nearby were openly pretending not to watch them.
Sophia lowered her voice.
“You’re causing gossip.”
Adrian glanced around casually.
“They already think we’re dating.”
Sophia almost inhaled oxygen incorrectly.
“What?”
“You look horrified.”
“Because that’s insane.”
“Mm.” Adrian studied her calmly. “You didn’t deny it immediately.”
Sophia opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
Damn him.
A faint smile appeared on Adrian’s face like he enjoyed watching her short-circuit emotionally.
Which he probably did.
“Lunch,” he repeated gently.
Sophia sighed heavily.
“Fine. But if anyone asks, I’m being held hostage.”
“Emotionally?”
“Don’t start.”
⸻
They ended up at a quiet Japanese restaurant several blocks away from the office.
Sophia immediately relaxed slightly once seated inside the private corner booth away from people.
Adrian noticed.
Again.
“You hate crowded places.”
It wasn’t a question.
Sophia looked down at the menu.
“Too noisy.”
“Too unpredictable?”
Her eyes lifted sharply toward him.
“You really never stop analyzing people.”
“You really never stop hiding.”
The words settled quietly between them.
Sophia looked away first.
Again.
The waiter arrived before the conversation could become emotionally dangerous.
Thank God.
After ordering, silence settled comfortably between them for a while.
Not awkward silence.
Something softer.
More familiar.
Sophia hated how quickly she was becoming accustomed to his presence.
“You disappeared after the hospital,” Adrian said eventually.
Not accusing.
Just observant.
Sophia traced the edge of her water glass slowly.
“I was working.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Annoying man.
Sophia exhaled quietly.
“I didn’t know what to do with…” She gestured vaguely between them.
Adrian remained still.
Careful.
Waiting.
“This,” she finished softly.
For once, he didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“You don’t have to decide everything all at once.”
Sophia laughed weakly.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Why?”
Because you’re not terrified.
The answer sat heavily inside her chest.
But before she could speak, Adrian said quietly:
“You think caring about someone automatically gives them power to destroy you.”
Sophia froze.
The accuracy hurt.
Adrian’s expression softened slightly.
“Sophia…”
“My mother loved my father for twenty-six years,” she interrupted quietly. “Do you know what that gave her?”
Pain.
Humiliation.
Dependency.
Adrian listened silently.
“She gave him everything,” Sophia continued softly. “And he still kept choosing other people.”
The vulnerability in her own voice frightened her.
Because she almost never talked about this out loud.
“I watched what love did to her,” she admitted. “Why would I ever want that for myself?”
Silence filled the space between them.
The restaurant noise faded softly into the background.
Then Adrian spoke carefully.
“What if love isn’t supposed to cost someone their entire identity?”
Sophia looked up slowly.
“What if your mother surviving him doesn’t mean you have to fear everyone who loves you?”
The gentleness in his voice nearly shattered something inside her chest.
Because deep down—
Sophia realized she had spent her entire life preparing for abandonment before love even had the chance to exist.
- Writer
