They will lose it all

Leena gripped the sink, her knuckles white, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, wild. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, sharp and unforgiving. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last.

"Breathe… just breathe…" she whispered, but the words felt meaningless. Her body wouldn't listen.

She turned on the tap, splashing cold water onto her face, but the panic clung to her, relentless. Her hands trembled violently as she clutched the edge of the sink, trying to ground herself, but it wasn't enough.

The walls felt like they were closing in. Her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor, curling into herself. The cold tiles pressed against her skin, but she barely felt them. Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and uncontrollable, mixing with the water dripping from her face.

"I… I wanna go home," she whispered, her voice breaking. The words tumbled out again, soft and desperate. "I wanna go home… I wanna go home…"

She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking slightly as the sobs wracked her body. The weight in her chest grew heavier, pressing down until she could barely breathe.

No one came. No one knocked. The office continued on, unaware of the girl breaking down behind the locked door.

Leena buried her face in her arms and let herself shatter.

I don't know how long I stayed locked inside the bathroom, the muffled sounds of office chatter fading into the background. Time felt irrelevant. I sat on the cold tiles, letting the weight of my emotions anchor me. My tears had dried up, but the heaviness in my chest remained. A hollow ache.

When I finally emerged, the office was nearly empty. Only a few overtime employees lingered at their desks, their tired faces lit by the faint glow of computer screens. I avoided their gazes and quietly gathered my things. My movements felt mechanical, like I was on autopilot. No thoughts ran through my mind—just an eerie, unsettling calm.

Outside, the night air hit my face, crisp and indifferent. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. My legs carried me to the nearest store, and before I realized it, I was standing in front of shelves stacked with bottles of alcohol. My hand hovered for a moment before grabbing a few. Maybe I'd find answers at the bottom of a bottle tonight. Or maybe it was just to feel something.

But as I walked home, clutching the bottles, something shifted inside me. A clarity emerged from the haze, sharp and cruel. I now knew what I wanted. No, what I needed.

I would take everything from the person who stole the happiness of my family. Every ounce of joy, every shred of peace—they would lose it all, just as I had.

Here's the continuation with Leena leaving the office on a rainy night, drinking, and showing up at Sam's door with a plan in mind:

The rain hit the pavement in heavy drops, glimmering under the dim streetlights. Leena walked through the downpour, her clothes soaked, hair plastered to her face. She barely felt the cold. Her mind was elsewhere — back in the office, back in that bathroom, back to him.

Her breath came out shaky as she pushed open the door to a liquor store. The bell above the entrance jingled faintly. The cashier barely looked up. Leena grabbed a few bottles from the shelves — whiskey, vodka, she didn't care — and paid in silence. The bottles clinked softly in the brown paper bag as she stepped back into the rain.

By the time she reached her apartment building, the first bottle was already half empty. She tilted it back, the liquid burning her throat, but it wasn't enough. Nothing ever was.

A sharp whistle broke through the night. Leena looked up, glassy-eyed, to see the watchman staring at her from his booth. He frowned, stepping forward.

"Madam, you okay?" His voice was cautious.

Leena just laughed — a bitter, broken sound. "I'm perfect." She took another long swig from the bottle, the warmth spreading through her chest, dulling the ache. The watchman watched her silently as she staggered past him into the building, shaking his head.

The elevator ride to her floor felt endless, the soft hum making her head spin. When the doors finally slid open, she stumbled into the hallway, the weight in her chest tightening with every step. But she didn't go to her own door.

She went to his.

Sam's door.

She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, her breathing ragged. Then she pounded on the door. "Sam!" Her voice echoed through the hallway. "Open the damn door!"

She kicked it once. Then again. The bottles in her bag clinked together, the sound sharp in the quiet corridor.

"Sam!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "I know you're in there!" Her fists slammed against the wood, each hit harder than the last. "Open up!"

She rested her forehead against the door, the rainwater and tears mixing on her face. Her body shook, whether from the cold, the alcohol, or the weight of everything inside her, she didn't know.

"Please…" she whispered. "I wanna go home."

She slid down to the floor, clutching the bottle tightly. But this time, she wasn't here to break. No… She had a plan.

And Sam was going to be part of it.

Then, finally, she heard the soft click of the lock turning. The door creaked open.

Leena blinked, the dim light from inside spilling over her. Slowly, her eyes traveled upward, landing on the face in front of her.

Sam.

He stood in the doorway, shirt rumpled, dark hair falling into his eyes. His face blurred at the edges, shadows shifting in the light, but she could still see the look in his eyes — confusion, concern… and something else. Pity. She hated it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. She just stared at him, the weight in her chest threatening to crush her. The hallway felt colder. Or maybe it was just her.

Her lips parted, but no words came. She swayed slightly, gripping the bottle tighter. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the cold rain in her veins, making everything feel distant.

"Took you long enough," she slurred, her voice barely more than a whisper