It had been two long days since Keifer disappeared. Two days of unanswered calls, unread messages, and that unbearable silence that made Jay's chest ache.
She sat at her desk in Mariano Hospital, staring blankly at the patient charts before her. Her hands hovered over the papers, but she couldn't focus. Every few minutes, her phone buzzed—or didn't—and each second without him felt like an eternity.
"Two days… two days, and not a single word." Her voice was barely a whisper, but the frustration in it made her grip the edge of the desk tightly.
She had called his assistant, left messages, even tried every possible number she could think of. Nothing. Silence.
Jay stood and walked the corridors, moving almost instinctively, as if her pacing could somehow pull him back to her.
"Where are you, Keifer?" she muttered under her breath, frustration and worry mingling into a tight knot in her chest. "Why… why won't you answer me?"
Her colleagues noticed her distraction, asking if she was okay, but Jay could only force a distracted smile, muttering something about being tired. Tired—but not from work. From waiting. From wondering. From the ache of not knowing.
At night, the emptiness felt heavier. She sat by the window in her apartment, phone in hand, staring at the screen, hoping for a message, a call, anything.
"Just let me know you're okay," she whispered to the empty room.
She had tried to push herself forward, focusing on surgeries, patients, and routines—but even then, her thoughts wandered to him. To the tension, the teasing, the almost-kisses, the warmth of him just inches away.
Two days… the thought repeated, relentless. Her heart ached for him, but her mind swirled with questions:
Did I do something wrong?
Did something happen to him?
Why would he leave without a word?
Jay exhaled sharply, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the window. She hated feeling powerless. She hated not knowing. She hated that every heartbeat felt like it was calling his name—and he wasn't there to answer.
Her fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles white. "Keifer," she whispered, voice breaking slightly, "if you care about me at all… come back. Please."
The two days stretched on, each moment heavy with longing, frustration, and worry. Jay was determined—not just to find him, but to confront him, to make him explain. To finally get answers… and maybe, just maybe, to end this silence that was slowly driving her mad.