SEBASTIAN’S POV
I’d come halfway across the world for this meeting, but I couldn’t seem to focus on a word being said.
The conversation around the table buzzed, full of numbers and strategies, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Sasha.
This wasn’t the first time she’d haunted my thoughts since I left, but tonight, the pull felt stronger, almost insistent, as if there were invisible strings tying me to her.
I clenched my fists under the table, willing myself to stay grounded, but it didn’t work.
“Sebastian, what do you think?”
The sharp voice of my business partner snapped me back into the room.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to focus on the figures splayed across the table in front of me.
“Yeah,” I replied slowly, buying myself time, “those projections look solid.”
It was all I could muster, and I hoped it sounded remotely intelligent because my mind was anywhere but here.
I made eye contact with the presenter, nodding as he launched into another set of data points, and once again, my thoughts slid back to Sasha.
What was she doing right now? She was probably asleep.
The time difference here put me hours ahead of her, which meant it was late evening for her back home.
The image of her curled up under a blanket, her face peaceful in the moonlight spilling through the window, came to mind.
She always looked so serene when she slept, as if the weight of the world she carried on her shoulders every day finally took a step back, just for a little while.
A pang of longing hit me, sharp and sudden. My fingers itched to pick up my phone, to dial her number and hear her voice, even if just for a few seconds.
But I held back. I had promised her I would let her rest, and it had been a long day for her.
The last thing she needed was me interrupting her sleep with a random phone call just because I couldn’t control myself.
But damn if it wasn’t tempting.
Sasha had this way of grounding me, of making everything else fade into the background, leaving just us.
I felt the weight of my phone in my pocket, taunting me, practically burning through the fabric with every second I resisted. But no, I wouldn’t give in. Not yet.
After the meeting finally wrapped up, I headed back to my hotel room,
exhaustion mingling with the constant undercurrent of yearning that I carried like a second skin.
The city lights flickered through my hotel window, casting shadows that danced across the floor.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, hoping it would take the edge off, even if only a little.
I took out my phone and opened our messages.
The last text she’d sent was still there, short and sweet, telling me to have a safe trip and to take care.
I must have read it a hundred times by now, letting every word sink in like a balm. She hadn’t messaged me since I’d arrived, which was understandable given the distance and our different time zones.
She probably figured I’d be busy, and I didn’t want her to feel like she had to check in constantly. Still, it didn’t stop me from hoping.
I sighed, setting down my empty glass. Screw it. I could at least wish her a good night. I typed out a message, keeping it simple.
“Good night, Sasha. Sweet dreams.”
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button.
It felt silly, sending a message without any expectation of a reply. But I couldn’t ignore the urge, the need to let her know I was thinking about her, even from so far away.
Finally, I hit send.
Just as I was about to set my phone down, the screen lit up. She was already typing.
My pulse spiked, a rush of excitement tingling through my veins as I watched the dots appear and disappear. She’d seen my message, and she was responding.
I could hardly believe it. The anticipation made my heart race, and I couldn’t help but smile as I stared at the screen, waiting.
But the dots vanished. She’d stopped typing, and the screen went still.
No message came through. I frowned, refreshing the chat, but nothing. My excitement faded, replaced by a strange emptiness.
“Really?” I muttered, shaking my head at myself. “You’re this worked up over a few dots on a screen.”
But it was more than that.
Those three little dots had ignited a hope I hadn’t realised I’d been harbouring, and now the absence of a reply felt like a hollow ache. I set the phone on the bedside table, telling myself to let it go.
She was probably just too tired and decided to sleep instead. Or maybe she’d typed out a message but changed her mind.
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts ran wild. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so much I wanted to share.
Being away made everything feel magnified, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something left unfinished between us.
Maybe it was just the distance, but it gnawed at me all the same.
Rolling over, I picked up my phone again, scanning through her old messages, each one a reminder of the connection we shared.
The easy banter, the stolen moments, the promises that hung between us like unspoken vows. We’d been through so much together, yet somehow, the simplest things, the goodnight texts, the morning calls had come to mean the most.
I glanced at the clock, realising it would be early morning for her soon. I could wait. Maybe she’d reply when she woke up. And if not… well, I’d still be here, waiting, however long it took.
With one last look at my phone, I placed it face down and forced myself to close my eyes, willing to sleep to take over.
But as I drifted off, the ache in my chest remained, a quiet reminder of the distance between us, and the promise of the moment we’d be together again.