Chapter 1

85 4 0
                                    

Chapter 1

SHE stared at the walls of her bedroom, taking occasional glances at the empty bed space beside her. Sighing heavily, she put a hand close to her mouth and closed her eyes, the events of her life for the past week flashing before her eyes.

Her husband had gone missing a week before.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she was helpless.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned her palms into fists out of frustration. A deep sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes once again to avoid all the thoughts that ran through her mind.

She took another helpless glance at the familiar room around her, her eyes falling on the portrait that stood motionlessly on the nightstand. The portrait had a picture of her and her husband holding each other close.

A single tear escaped her left eye as she eyed every detail of the picture. Specifically, every detail of him.

His long, jet-black hair rested just before his shoulders. His brown, mono-lid eyes, his perfectly-shaped nose, and his pink, plump lips. His slim body.

Every part about him was beautiful.

And she had no idea how she managed to get along without him for the past week. She was horrified, yes.

But she had every inch of her body hope for his return.

And she knew she wasn't going to give up any time soon. That was just the way it is.

Behind his handsome face laid the soft, cute personality that made her fall in love with him in the first place. He wasn't arrogant, or entitled like she expected him to be. On the contrary, actually.

He was broken.

And that was exactly why she was worried about him. It wasn't like him to not return to their shared house after a long day of work. She knew that because he wasn't staying at any of his friends' houses at the time of the incident. And it certainly wasn't like him to sleep in a motel and not return for an entire week.

After all, the Korean National Police Agency had declared him missing around three days before.

She threw her head back against the wooden, king-sized bed frame. Tears slowly poured down her face, she closed her eyes to kick the painful thoughts out of her mind.

"Would you like to release a statement?" They had asked her a few days earlier.

"My husband is only nineteen," she had replied, tears streaming down her face, " he has an entire life ahead of him. Please, return him to me, safe and unharmed, and I promise we won't press any charges. We will give you the money you want."

Cliché, one might say. But true.

He was young and carefree, unlike her. She wanted to watch him grow up and get the luxurious, happy life he deserved.

And yet, despite her clear intention that she was going to pay anything to bring him back, no one had contacted her in the span of three days.

No one knew anything about him.

And that hurt her, deep inside.

She inhaled deeply and lied down on the bed, her eyes meeting the ceiling a few seconds later.

Resting a hand on her stomach, she closed her eyes at the sensation of her chest heaving up and down and tried to fall asleep.

Only to open her eyes once again, wet with more tears that eventually made their way down her face.

She couldn't sleep without him.

And she knew it.

The image of her beautiful husband lying down beside her, all cuddled up to her and leaving no space in between. She sent him a soft smile before hugging his waist and falling asleep, no worries on both of their minds whatsoever.

That happened around a week before, one day before his disappearance.

And she could almost cry at how fast the nights had changed. She had gone from happy and keen on life to sad and depressed, and she could only imagine what her husband must be going through at that moment.

Realizing that she couldn't sleep, she hurried up and away from the bed, grabbed her latest iPhone from the nightstand, and rushed downstairs, to the living room.

After sitting on the couch with a blop, she unlocked the pattern on her phone and began scrolling through the apps, pressing on the phone app.

She scanned the numbers on the screen with her eyes, then pressed on a certain number with her thumb and listened to the rings erupting from the speaker.

One ring.

Two rings.

"Hey, Mal..."

Her brother's voice echoed through her ears, through the nearly silent, gigantic living room.

"Hey, Rajwan," she spoke, her voice trembling lightly in her throat, "I couldn't sleep again, so I thought I would give you a call."

Her brother sent her a grin despite knowing that she wouldn't see him.

"How are you today, Mal? I know you're not exactly great or anything, but... Do you need anything? I'm always here if you need me."

She frowned at the words, eventually nodding her head.

"I know, baby," she replied, "thank you. I just needed to talk to someone, about anything."

Rajwan sat up straight in his bed, the phone still close to his ear.

"Hey, do you want me to come over tomorrow morning?" He asked. "I can bring you food if you want."

A long moment of silence on the other end.

"Did you go grocery shopping ever since the incident, Mal?"

A long pause before she finally answered, tears filling up her eyes once again, "no."

He sighed heavily, his heart aching at her heartbroken tone.

"Don't worry," he replied, his voice lower than before, "I'll be at your house tomorrow morning."

She sent the speaker a weak smile before muttering a word of gratitude.

"Thanks, Rajwan..."

He muttered a small 'of course' before asking another question in attempt to get his sister's mind off the current situation.

And it didn't take long for them to hang up.

____________________

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰𝒔 𝑶𝒖𝒓𝒔 ✓Where stories live. Discover now