The hallway stretched empty, bathed in the pale light of the hours before sunrise. Fahlada pressed the doorbell of the condo she had always turned to in her darkest moments. In one hand, she clutched a half-empty bottle of bourbon, the liquid sloshing softly with each shake.
When the door opened, harsh light fell across her, catching the glistening trails of tears down her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red from hours of crying. The sharp scent of whiskey lingered on her skin and in her hair.
"Lada? What happened?" Tan blinked in surprise, seeing her friend's state so early.
"I messed up…" Fahlada choked out, her voice hoarse and barely audible.
"Earn… and I fought…"
Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her tears and shudders. His hand instinctively soothed her back, and he led her inside with a gentle squeeze, as if keeping her close might be the only way to stop her from breaking apart.
Fahlada staggered into the living room; her steps were uneven, her breath heavy with the sharp scent of alcohol. She leaned against the edge of the table for balance, her fingers slipping slightly on the polished wood.
"Nothing… makes sense… anymore," she whispered, lips strained, confusion and fear etched in every syllable.
"I even… shouted at Tofu," she slurred, "Can you… imagine… me… doing that…?"
She let out a bitter laugh, cracking halfway and turning into a sob. Her mascara had already begun to smudge, and when she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, it only made the streaks deeper.
"I'm… the worst wife… I can't… make anything right…"
Her knees buckled slightly, and she collapsed onto the couch, clutching the bottle of bourbon to her chest. She took a long, unsteady swig before burying her face in her other hand.
Tan sat beside her in silence, the shock still settling in. He had thought things were getting better between her friend and Earn.
"Lada…" he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her damp cheek. She didn't respond, only sobbed harder.
Without another word, Tan rose and hurried to the kitchen. He returned moments later with a glass of water and a handful of clean towels, kneeling again to gently dab at her face, wiping away the smeared makeup and tears with care.
Then, quietly, he let his hand brush hers where it rested on her lap. It was a small gesture, but it spoke of presence, of someone silently saying, I'm here.
Fahlada's grip on the bourbon bottle loosened as a shudder ran through her, and her tears fell freely.
Tan reached out slowly, "I think you've had enough."
But as his fingers brushed the bottle, Fahlada flinched, clutching it as if her life depended on it.
"I can't fix it. I can't undo… the fact that we lost our baby—twice! I can't do anything for her anymore…"
Tan paused, watching her with concern. He didn't try to take the bottle; he didn't need to. Her knuckles whitened around it; she wasn't ready to let go, not of the bourbon, not of the pain.
"I just… I just want her to be… okay," Fahlada mumbled. "I want her… to smile again… to laugh… like she used to… but I… I don't know… maybe I can't… make her happy… no matter what I… do…"
Her face crumpled, lips quivering with the words she'd been too afraid to speak aloud.
"Is this… what our marriage is now? Because if it is… I don't want it. Not like this…"
"Don't say that," he said softly. "You're drunk… and still grieving. Both of you are. When you're hurting that much, it's hard not to see everything through the pain. But Lada… this isn't the end."
Fahlada let out a bitter, mocking smirk. "Yes… Of course… You always know better than I do," she uttered, tilting the bottle toward her lips again.
Tan watched her; he knew that look, defiance masking despair.
Just as her grip wavered, he moved forward and gently stopped her, pulling her into a tight, desperate hug. His arms wrapped around her like a shield, as if he could absorb some of the pain she refused to show.
"You know drinking won't solve your problems," Tan said gently, his voice low near her ear.
"But I get it. Sometimes you need the sting to feel something else."
He pulled back slightly, his hands still on her shoulders.
"So, let's drink it out," he said, reaching for the glass of water he'd brought earlier. He held it out to her, "But this time, with water. Then you go home to your wife."
Fahlada stared at the glass Tan offered, blinking slowly as if deciding whether lifting it was worth the effort. She pressed it to her chest, trying to soothe herself as the cool condensation brushed her skin. But she didn't let go of the bottle of alcohol, still clutching it like a lifeline.
She took a hesitant sip, then another, the water dulling the burn in her throat and helping her collect herself enough to notice the weight pressing down.
She leaned back, letting her gaze drift to the ceiling before slowly dropping to her lap. Memories pressed in; Earn, eyes red, lips trembling, telling her to leave. Fahlada had done just that, saying nothing more, walking away in silence.
Then Tanya, left behind, looked at her with wide eyes, unsure and frozen by the suddenness of her departure. Those amber eyes… they had reminded her of Earn's. But had they ever truly been amber? She couldn't remember.
The thought unsettled her, like a detail she should know but had somehow lost in the haze of regret.
Those moments sobered her more than the water ever could.
Her eyes found Tan's, and she shifted slightly. She wanted to speak, but the words tangled stubbornly in her throat.
So she looked away, avoiding his gaze, and then took a deep gulp of the alcohol, the liquid burning her throat again, as though trying to wash away the memory that refused to leave.
Tan tried to lighten the mood, offering a small, teasing grin.
"Looks like that water didn't do much, huh?"
Fahlada didn't laugh. Instead, she drew in a long, uneven breath.
"There's more I want to tell you…"
"I'm listening." Tan drew near, catching the subtle shift in her tone that suggested she had sobered slightly.
"It's about Tanya…"
"Say what now?!" Tan stiffened.
Fahlada exhaled shakily, then decided to say it all, hoping that the confession might finally make sense in her own mind.
"There was a moment… with her. We… We almost kissed…"
"What?!" Tan's voice cracked with disbelief. "Why the hell didn't you say that first?!" His fists clenched at his sides, fury radiating off him as if he could strike the air just to release it.
"I stopped it, okay! I didn't do anything with her…" She swallowed hard before continuing, "I made it clear to Tanya. So you don't have to worry, Tan. It's over."
Tan's face darkened, brows knitting, as he sank back onto the sofa.
He snatched the bottle from Fahlada's hands. Her grip gave way, powerless, as he downed the whiskey in one long gulp, letting out a low sigh as the burn seared his throat.
"I warned you! I told you she was bad news. This wouldn't have happened if you'd just avoided her! How could you let that happen?!" Tan snapped, slamming the bottle onto the center table with a sharp thud.
"Nothing happened!"
"Nothing yet…" Tan muttered, the accusation barely restrained in his tone.
Fahlada couldn't meet his eyes; shame weighed her down, forcing her gaze to the floor. After a long pause, she drew in a shaky breath and let it all out.
"I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that.. My mind was a mess, and she—"
"She what?!" Tan barked, his voice sharper than he intended. Fahlada faltered at his tone, wondering how she could get this nonsense out of her head without it sounding like a foolish excuse.
"Tell me… Lada…"
Fahlada swallowed hard, her throat tight as she finally whispered,
"For a moment… I thought… she was Earn."
Tan stared at her, stunned. His expression shifted, first confusion, then something close to heartbreak. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to process what he'd just heard.
"You thought she was Earn?" he repeated slowly, as if forcing the words to mean something else. "What kind of excuse is that?" Tan stood, glaring down at her.
"Lada… she looks nothing like Earn!"
Fahlada didn't respond. Her shoulders curled inward, shrinking under the weight of her own admission.
Tan ran a hand down his face, then through his hair, pacing a few steps before stopping.
"Tell me you were drunk. Please tell me you weren't sober when that happened."
She remained silent.
And that silence told him everything.
"I swear, I want to smack you in the head right now," he said, voice trembling with restrained fury.
"Please… just do it," Fahlada whispered, eyes downcast.
Tan exhaled sharply and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, only to realize it was already empty. He pressed his palms together and squeezed gently as he sank into the seat, the fire in his eyes fading into something heavier.
Fahlada had come to him as a friend, seeking understanding, and part of him knew it wasn't his place to scold her. His job was to guide her, to help her see clearly, especially since she had swallowed her pride to confess. Whatever had happened, it had to come from somewhere deeper. Fahlada could be reckless, stubborn, even cruel in her silence, but betrayal?
Not to Earn. Never.
Unless…
"Did you even think about how Earn would feel?" Tan's voice tightened, "Tell me exactly how it happened, Fahlada…"
"I don't know how to explain it. Maybe I miss Earn so much, and I saw her in Tanya sometimes. Then, when Tanya looked at me, all I wanted was—" Fahlada's hands gripped her own elbows, as if trying to disappear under the weight of guilt and shame.
"To kiss her, seriously?" Tan said, incredulous.
"I know it looked bad, I never wanted it to happened, believe me, I tried… I know I was wrong. I made… a mistake…"
Tan moved closer and then asked, "Is she the reason you're acting like this? That fight with Earn—was it all because of her?" His gaze searched her face, trying to find the truth she hadn't yet spoken.
"No! No… of course not," she said quickly, shaking her head.
"I was just being defensive, overwhelmed with everything, then we fought, and by the time I walked out, all I wanted was to run back and say I was sorry. But how could I? I'd only make it worse." Fahlada's voice trembled as she pressed her face into her hands.
She knew, somewhere beneath the excuses, that almost kissing was its own kind of betrayal, one she couldn't fully take back.
"I hate myself for it. I never meant for it to get that far—I swear, I would never cheat on Earn."
"The fact that you almost kissed that intern? That still counts as cheating." Tan shook his head. He leaned back slightly, putting space between them.
"Tell me honestly… do you have feelings for that woman?" His voice edged with suspicion.
Fahlada's hands fell into her lap, fingers twisting in helpless knots.
All she really wanted was Earn.
But Earn was somewhere she couldn't reach; emotionally distant, physically absent, maybe even lost to her entirely.
And then there was Tanya. Always around. Always inching closer.
Fahlada never desired her, not in the way she longed for Earn. Still, she found herself tolerating Tanya's presence, even leaning on it at times.
Maybe it was the comfort, the easy company, the way Tanya filled the silence that had grown unbearable at home.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even something she truly needed.
It was just… a distraction, plain and simple.
'So what is Tanya to me?' Fahlada asked herself.
'A distraction I should never have allowed? A mistake I could have avoided? Or just a sign of how badly I let myself drift from Earn. Whatever it is, one thing's clear—I never had feelings for her, nor would I want to.'
"God! Lada, I can't believe you!"
"What? I haven't said anything yet," she murmured, looking up at him, eyes wide with surprise.
"You can't reply right away? That means you're considering your feelings toward that woman!"
"Never! I was just thinking about what she means to me, because I… I do consider her a friend, but nothing more than that." She bit her lower lip, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"Yes, she lifted my spirits, reminded me of Earn sometimes—but romantic feelings? Not once. That, I swear, on my life."
Tan pressed a hand over his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly before looking at her again.
"That's… that's all I needed to know," he said, even as a part of him wanted to argue that she had still betrayed Earn, no matter how she framed it.
But as he looked at her, broken and drowning in guilt, he held his tongue.
He understood the weight of the pain she carried. No one should have to endure what Fahlada and Earn had, and it tore at him to see his friends crumble this way.
A part of him hated himself, too. This should not have happened. He already had an idea, after all, Rati had even called him once, out of the blue.
They weren't close, so her reaching out had surprised him. Rati told him she'd confronted an intern named Tanya, who she believed had strong feelings for Fahlada. She'd already warned the girl herself, but wanted Tan to keep an eye out, to make sure Fahlada wouldn't cross paths with her too often.
He had known, and yet he let it play out.
Maybe that made him just as guilty.
He had seen how vulnerable Fahlada was to loneliness, how easily she could slip, just like that night at the bar when she had been devastated about Earn.
His head was crowded with frustration, pity, and unease all at once.
Finally, he asked,
"Did you tell Earn?"
"I couldn't, I wanted to… earlier. But after the fight, it doesn't matter anymore."
"It matters, Lada. It's time for you to go home. Not tomorrow. Now. Talk to Earn. Tell her everything…" Tan let out a long breath, the tension easing slightly.
"I can't… not now. I think we need this space—to really think," Fahlada muttered, as she sat there, her breath shallow and ragged under the weight of her choices.
Tan watched her for a moment, then asked,
"Do you still love Earn?"
"Of course! With everything I have, " she said, without a beat of doubt.
"Great, then do what you must," he said, calm but firm. "Even if it breaks you. You owe her that much."
Fahlada lifted her gaze to Tan, eyes still red, carrying both the sting of regret and determination. Somewhere beneath the weakness, a small, stubborn resolve had taken root.
"I will…"
A promise to herself that she wouldn't let this mistake define her or her love for Earn.
She let out a long, shaky breath, suddenly aware of how heavy her limbs felt and how little sleep she'd had. The weight of everything pressed down on her; fatigue entwined with torment.
"Can I crash on your couch for a few hours?" she asked, her voice strained.
"I just… need to sober up and clear my head. I'll leave soon after, and then I'll talk to Earn."
Tan gave her a small nod. "Of course. Get some rest. But don't wait too long." He stepped toward the kitchen, but when she called his name, he stopped, her voice small and hesitant.
"Tan…"
Tan gave her a playful look.
"If you tell me there's another woman, I'm going to need a flowchart. And maybe a nap."
He let the joke hang in the air for a moment, hoping to coax a small smile from his friend.
And there it was, Fahlada let out a soft laugh, grateful for the break in tension.
"No, nothing like that. I just… need a favor. Could you grab my things from the hospital? I left everything when I rushed home. I don't even have my phone, so I didn't get a chance to message Earn after we fought."
Tan blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "You left everything? Why?"
"You know… Tanya. I just had to get back to Earn." She paused, rubbing her arm. "I wanted to return to the hospital sooner after I left home, but I couldn't risk running into Tanya again."
Tan's expression softened, understanding settling in his eyes.
"Ah… that explains a lot. Let me change quickly, and I'll go get your things."
He shifted uncomfortably, then asked gently, "So… what are your plans with that woman?"
"Nothing. I just need to fix things with Earn. That's all I can think about right now."
Tan nodded slowly. He didn't press further, but the watchful look in his eyes made it clear he'd be keeping an eye on her.
Fahlada leaned back, her gaze drifting to the empty bourbon bottle. After a moment, she whispered, "Thank you… and I'm sorry for bothering you so much."
"No problem," Tan replied with a small smile. "As your friend, I expect an omakase later."
"Sure," she said softly, managing a faint smile.
"Sit tight. I'll reheat some soup to help you sober up before I head out," Tan said, then disappeared into the kitchen.
The tension in her shoulders eased just a little. She still had a mess to sort out, still had miles to go, but for now, at least she knew where to begin.
__
By the time Tan reached the hospital, the sky had begun to lighten.
He stepped past the security desk, nodded at a nurse he recognized, and headed toward the physicians' wing, already looking for Fahlada's office.
"Tan?"
He stopped his tracks and turned at the familiar voice.
"You're early," Bow said as she walked toward him, a teasing grin on her face. Her scrubs were slightly wrinkled, her hair pulled back in a loose bun.
"And you're here? Aren't you supposed to be off with Ros today?"
"Emergency specialist doesn't always mean off days. I had a case earlier, but I'm heading out soon. Thought I'd swing by Lada's office before leaving, she's here around this time, right?"
"Lada's not here right now, but…"
Tan faltered for a brief moment, but Bow was already watching him closely, and he knew her too well; there was no way he could hide what was going on.
"But what?" Bow asked, arching an eyebrow.
'Better to have her come along then.' He thought
"Just come with me. We'll get Lada's things."
Bow fell into step beside him, her teasing expression fading as she studied his face. "What happened?" she asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes, but she followed him without hesitation.
"It's… complicated. I'll try to explain later," he said, leading her down the corridor toward Fahlada's office, his pace brisk but controlled.
Inside, the room was quiet, left untouched since the night before. Bow's eyes swept over the space, taking in the scattered papers. Fahlada's bag still rested on the table, seemingly waiting.
"Looks like she left in a hurry… or didn't get a chance to tidy up," she said softly.
Tan didn't respond, already moving toward the desk, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"Tan, you need to tell me what happened. Is Lada okay? You don't usually just grab her things like this."
"Fine. I'll tell you soon," he replied, his gaze fixed on the screen.
Bow frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Checking the CCTV," he said. "Every office has one, remember? Hospital security policy saves us when patients or families make complaints. And… I've still got the access code from the last incident in my ward."
Bow raised a brow. "But why are you checking the CCTV? And since when do they trust you with that?"
"Since IT got lazy," Tan muttered. "Please—no more questions."
Bow rolled her eyes and stepped beside him as he tapped in the keys, entering a possible timestamp, unsure if it was the right moment.
The CCTV feed flickered to life, the image crisp yet slightly compressed, the angle wide and clinical.
Tan and Bow watched in silence.
The footage showed everything: from Fahlada drinking coffee to Tanya entering the room, and Fahlada carefully avoiding her. But what shocked them was the moment Fahlada pinned Tanya against the wall, towering over her. One of Fahlada's hands gripped Tanya's wrist, pressing it firmly, while the other rested near Tanya's cheek. From their angle and movements, it was clear they were intimate, kissing. Tan knew the truth from Fahlada herself, but from this view, the proximity and gestures made it impossible to tell otherwise.
Then they saw Fahlada leave in a hurry.
Bow leaned closer to the screen, frowning, and moved the mouse to replay the scene. "Wait—there's no way… Tan, this can't be real! I never thought Lada would do that."
Tan ran a hand over his face, his expression darkening.
"Neither would I. Lada can be many things, but loyal? Always."
"Are you saying this is fake?"
"This footage is real. Actually, this pretty much summarizes what happened here, and why I'm getting Lada's things. But trust me, it's not what you think."
Bow frowned, disbelief written across her face. "Not what I think? Tan… it looks exactly like they're kissing!"
"I said, trust me, nothing here is what it seems. I believe in Fahlada." He spoke with unwavering certainty. Although if he had seen the footage first, before hearing Fahlada's side, he might never have believed her. But he chose faith over doubt, because he knew her best friend better than anyone. Even after the reckless choice she'd made in getting tangled up with Tanya, he understood her. And he knew Bow would understand her, too.
"Don't worry, I'll tell you everything," he continued, his voice firming. "But not here. We have to be careful. First, we need to delete this footage."
"This feels… wrong, Tan," Bow said, her voice tight, eyes lingering on the paused footage. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then added, "But I trust you. Let's delete it."
"I got it," Tan said, already navigating through the system. "Give me just… a moment here."
As Tan deleted the footage, another clip began to play automatically.
On the screen, Tanya sat alone in the office, clutching a white coat. Her shoulders trembled with silent sobs, her hands gripping the fabric as if it were the last piece of someone she couldn't bear to lose. Unaware she was being recorded, she let herself fall apart.
Bow leaned closer, eyes widening. Her fingers curled against the edge of the desk, her expression twisted with a mix of concern and disgust.
Tan's hand hovered over the mouse. His eyes narrowed as he studied Tanya's small, shaking frame.
There was no performance in any of it, only pain.
He let out a slow breath, then clicked delete.
The screen went black.
The evidence vanished.