Ryan barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he heard his own broken sob echoing back at him… and the soft, trembling way Kia whispered his name through the door.
By morning, he had washed his face, taken a deep breath, and forced himself into the mask he always wore — calm, steady, untouchable.
Except today… the mask wasn't perfect.
When he came downstairs, Max and Liam were already in the living room. They both turned at the sound of his footsteps.
Their reactions were instant.
Liam froze.
His eyes widened sharply, scanning Ryan's face.
"Boss…?" he said slowly. "Your eyes…"
Ryan blinked. His voice came out steady, practiced.
"Ah. I didn't sleep well. The kids kept tossing around."
Liam didn't blink.
He didn't believe a single syllable.
But he also didn't ask again — because the last time Ryan had cried was…
Never.
Not once.
Not when things got ugly.
Not when he lost everything and had to rebuild from scratch.
Not even when Liam himself had broken down in front of him.
Ryan was the strong one.
So seeing him like this?
It shook him.
Max, who was holding a tray of files, almost dropped it.
"Sir… you… cried?" he blurted before he could stop himself.
Ryan shot him a warning look — not angry, just tired.
Max swallowed hard.
"Sorry, sir. I just— I've never… I mean, ever…"
Ryan gave a small, dismissive smile.
"It's nothing serious. Just stress."
But Max kept staring like he had just discovered his boss was secretly human.
The rest of the day ran smoothly — paperwork, calls, food, the usual chaos of the twins running around the house like two little storms.
But underneath the normal routine… something felt off.
Like the room was missing something.
Because Kia didn't show up.
Not in the morning for his usual "I just came to check on the kids."
Not in the afternoon with his stupid excuse of "I was in the area."
Not in the evening when he usually found one reason or another to linger around the kitchen while Ryan pretended not to notice.
Liam noticed immediately.
He didn't say anything, but he kept glancing at the door.
Then at Ryan.
Then at the door again.
Something wasn't right.
And then, of course, the twins noticed.
"Daddy," Mira asked, tugging Ryan's sleeve, "is Uncle Kia coming today?"
Ryan froze for a half-second.
He kept his expression neutral.
"I don't know, baby."
Liam looked at him sharply.
Max paused mid-sip of his drink.
And the kids instantly protested.
"Why?!"
"Did he say he's coming?"
"Is he busy?"
"Will he come tomorrow?"
"Daddy, call him!"
Ryan sighed. "Guys… I really don't know."
He didn't want to admit the truth:
Kia had run away after hearing him cry.
And that truth burned somewhere deep, deep inside Ryan's chest.
Liam folded his arms, watching him closely, silently thinking:
Something happened last night… and Ryan is lying.
Max exchanged glances with him, confused but worried.
The twins eventually returned to their cartoons, but the house felt too quiet, too expectant, too… wrong.
Kia's absence hung in the air like a missing heartbeat.
And Ryan tried not to admit it, even to himself.
But he felt it.
He missed him.