An Incomplete Forever

KATRINA

The pounding in my head felt like a drum being beaten from the inside. Ugh… never drinking that much again. Of course, that was a lie, I’d probably do it all over again next time. My day off had been spent exactly how my family and I always did—drinking, singing, dancing, barbecuing. Even if we were just at home, we made a party out of it. That was just our way of life.

Dragging my sluggish body into the workplace, I yanked my ID card from my wallet and slid it into the reader. The small screen blinked to life.

11:58 AM.

‘Thank God, still not noon,’ I muttered under my breath.

Since it was Friday, my shift would start at 12 PM and end at 9 PM, the same as every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Just another long day ahead.

I glanced at my reflection in the glass panel near the office door. My hair was tied into a sleek bun, my makeup still flawless. As a beauty specialist, my appearance was my brand, my credibility. No one ever guessed I was 37 years old. Not a wrinkle, not a blemish. My skin was practically immortal—without a single touch of surgery, thank you very much.

"Morning, Bethy," I greeted Bethany as she walked toward the office computer.

She barely looked up, stifling a yawn. "Morning. Just got in?"

"Yeah," I said, grabbing my perfume and giving myself a few generous spritzes before shoving it back into my locker. "Just arrived."

I wasn’t ready to start working yet. My body might have been here, but my soul was still recovering from last night. So, instead of heading to the sales floor, I wandered toward the back storage area, using the excuse of needing the restroom.

That was when I noticed him.

A new guy.

Leaning casually near the storage door was a man, dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and matching slacks. He wasn’t someone I recognized, and judging by his stance, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do yet.

Tall. Lean, with well-defined muscles that hinted at a regular workout routine. He had that athletic build, the kind that came from actual training rather than just looking good.

‘Well, well… a fresh face.’

I shot him a small smile as I walked past. He nodded slightly, his lips tugging into a polite, almost reserved smile in return.

"Hai, Kak Reen!"

I turned to see Shahida, one of the store staff, her hands busy stacking boxes.

"Hey, Ida. Got a lot of new stock today?" I asked, eyeing the cartons piled high near the storage shelves. There was so much stuff that the path to the restroom was completely blocked. Well, there goes my excuse to escape work a little longer.

The new guy was already stepping in to help, effortlessly lifting a heavy box without waiting to be asked. Quiet, observant. Interesting.

"Yeah, quite a bit," Shahida sighed, wiping her brow.

I watched as the new guy silently carried the boxes inside, stacking them neatly. Hardworking. That’s a good start.

Just then, Bethany appeared in the sales area, struggling to move a large box on the floor. Without thinking, I walked over to help her.

"Where should I move this box?"

Both Bethany and I turned toward the voice.

It was the new guy again.

Bethany hesitated for a second, then gestured toward the bath products section. "That one goes over there."

He didn’t question it. He just grabbed the box and carried it like it weighed nothing.

"Here, let me take that," he suddenly said, reaching for the one I was holding.

I arched an eyebrow. "It’s heavy, you know."

He smirked. "I can handle it."

I let out a small laugh. Fair point. He was a guy, after all.

He glanced at both of us. "What should I call you?"

Bethany, still focused on counting stock, muttered, "Just call me Kak Beth."

I tilted my head. "Katrina. What about you?"

"Zayn Aydin. Just call me Zayn," he replied smoothly.

There was a quiet confidence in the way he spoke. No unnecessary words, just straight to the point.

"How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

I grinned. "Take a guess."

He studied my face for a moment, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Hmm… 28?"

I laughed. Oh, he’s good.

"Wrong," I teased.

His brows furrowed. "Then how old?"

"37"

Zayn’s jaw practically dropped. "What!? No way!"

I burst out laughing at his reaction.

Bethany, clearly entertained, chimed in. "Guess my age next!"

Zayn squinted. "Uhh… 38?"

Bethany beamed. "At least you made me younger! Nope, I’m already 40,"

Zayn turned back to me. "Alright, now it’s your turn. Guess how old I am."

I took a good look at him. Sharp jawline, fit physique, clearly someone who took care of his body. He had that youthful energy but also a presence that suggested confidence beyond his years.

"23?" I guessed.

Zayn’s eyes widened. "Whoa! That’s exactly right! How’d you know?"

I smirked. "I have a talent for these things."

Bethany chuckled. "Still a baby, huh, Zayn?"

Zayn just shook his head with a half-smile.

I, being my naturally curious (or nosy) self, decided to push the conversation further.

"So… got a girlfriend?" I asked, playfully teasing. No particular reason, just fun to see people’s reactions.

Zayn let out a short sigh. "Just broke up two months ago."

"Oof. Ouch." Before I could say anything, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"ZAYN!"

All three of us turned toward the source.

Oh crap. The area manager is here.

Bethany and I exchanged quick, panicked glances.

Within seconds, we both snapped into action, pretending to be busy like our lives depended on it.

And just like that, our little chat was over.

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ZAYN

Today marks my third day working here. Although I'm still getting used to things, I'm doing my best to adapt. After all, there are only two male staff members in this entire workplace—myself and Hariz. It feels a bit awkward to blend in.

I straighten my black shirt, adjusting it neatly. Black shirt, black slacks, black leather shoes, this has become my temporary uniform until my official white coat arrives. Once I get that, I’ll have more flexibility in what I wear underneath. As I glance at the mirror in front of me, I notice a girl walking behind me. It’s my first time seeing her, but based on her uniform, I can tell she’s a staff member here.

Curious, I approach her when I see her scanning the items in my section as if inspecting something.

“Hey…” I greet casually. She looks me up and down before replying, “Hey,” in a disinterested tone.

“Can I help you with anything?” I offer.

“No, thanks,” she replies, just as uninterested.

Well, alright then. I shrug it off and make my way to Arifah, one of the staff members managing the personal care section. Arifah is busy restocking the shelves when I call out to her. She’s friendly and easy to talk to, so I feel more comfortable striking up a conversation with her.

“Arifah, who’s that?” I ask, nodding toward the girl in my section while leaning against one of the racks.

Arifah follows my gaze and nods in understanding. “Oh, that’s Melissa. She’s your partner in the health section. Technically, she’s supposed to be assisting you.”

I nod slowly. So that’s the cold and distant partner I’ll be working with. Great.

“Need help with anything?” I ask Arifah, eager to make myself useful, any excuse to avoid standing awkwardly in my own section. Besides, I only really need to focus when there’s a client who needs consultation on medication, supplements, or treatments. Managing stock? That’s the general staff’s responsibility. I only help if I have free time.

Arifah thinks for a moment before handing me some products. “Here, go restock these.”

I take the items and start arranging them when suddenly, Hariz calls out to all the staff, including me. Curious, I walk over to where he’s standing. The rest of the staff have already gathered, forming a small group. I mentally count—nine of us in total.

Hariz clears his throat before addressing everyone. “Alright, as you all know, we have a new Health Consultant on board. So today, we’ll do a quick introduction session.”

Immediately, all eyes turn toward me. A wave of awkwardness washes over me.

“Okay, who wants to go first?” Hariz asks.

Silence.

“You go first, Riz,” Katrina suggests, her tone playful.

Hariz rolls his eyes but ultimately gives in, considering she’s older than him. “Fine. I’m Hariz, the Assistant Supervisor. Our actual supervisor is currently on maternity leave, so, Zayn… if you need anything, you can come to me or Bethy.”

He gestures toward Bethany, who takes off her face mask before introducing herself. “Hey, just call me Bethy. I’m also an Assistant Supervisor, like Hariz.”

One by one, everyone introduces themselves until it’s finally my turn.

I clear my throat before speaking. “Hey, I’m Zayn Aydin. You can call me Zayn. I’m 23.”

“Where are you from, Zayn?” Katrina asks. She sure is curious, even though we’ve technically met before.

Without hesitation, I answer, “I’m originally from Samarkand. My father is from there.”

Before anyone else can react, Shahida jumps in. “Wait, so how do you even get here? That’s far!”

“For now, I take Grab.”

“WHAT?!” The group exclaims in unison.

“That’s so expensive! If you do that every day, your wallet will suffer,” Bethany shakes her head, and the others nod in agreement. The distance between Samarkand and Kusan isn’t exactly short, it takes about an hour or more, depending on traffic. Samarkand is notorious for its congestion, though Kusan remains the capital of the Santara region.

“But it’s only temporary,” I explain quickly. “I’ll be moving to Kusan with my family soon.”

“Ohhh,” they all reply in relief, their voices dragging in unison.

“What’s your field of study?” Farina, one of the part-time staff, suddenly asks.

I glance at the tall girl and smile. “I have a degree in Sports Medicine.”

“So, are you more of a sports expert or a medical expert?” she presses, intrigued.

“Well, I’d say both,” I reply confidently, feeling a sense of pride in my expertise. I notice Katrina watching me closely, though I choose to ignore it.

“If I want to lose weight, what kind of exercise and supplements should I take?” Shahida asks eagerly, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity. Before I can answer, Hariz claps his hands, signaling for everyone to return to work.

Shahida sighs in disappointment but doesn’t push further, as a customer has just walked into the store seeking advice. Without hesitation, I step forward to fulfill my role as a Health Consultant.

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KATRINA

Melissa and I stood against the glass wall of the store, our eyes locked on the world beyond. The rhythmic motion of passing cars, the faint hum of engines, the occasional blare of a distant horn, it was oddly comforting. The only silver lining to working at this particular branch was its location. Unlike the suffocating confines of a shopping mall, here, I could steal glances at the outside world whenever work became unbearable. It was a temporary illusion of escape.

"Did he do it again?"

Melissa’s voice shattered the silence like a stone breaking the surface of still water. She didn’t look at me when she spoke, but I could hear the quiet concern laced in her words.

I exhaled slowly, my breath heavy with exhaustion. “Yeah…” A sigh slipped from my lips before I could suppress it.

“It’s getting worse. That bruise, it's too visible.”

Her gaze flickered to my arm, the faint traces of blue and purple just barely concealed beneath my sleeve. Instinctively, I tugged at the fabric of my black blazer, pulling it down as if that alone could erase the evidence.

Melissa had grown used to seeing these marks, but that didn’t make it any less shameful. I hated that she knew, hated that she had witnessed the darkest parts of my life. Yet, at the same time, I was grateful for her. She was the only one who truly saw me. She knew the truth, the truth I hid from the world.

Last night was no different. My husband, who rarely came home on weekends, had unexpectedly returned. I made the mistake of questioning him about his late hours, and just like that, his temper ignited. It was always like this. A few slurred words, a flicker of irritation in his eyes, and then his hand, swift and merciless.

This was my reality. Seven years of enduring his fury. Seven years of betrayal, of knowing that while I waited at home, he shared his bed with other women, including someone I had once called a friend. Seven years of watching him squander his life, skipping work, drowning himself in alcohol, and treating me as nothing more than an outlet for his anger.

I had long stopped feeling. My heart had been shattered so many times that all that remained was an empty shell, a body that moved but a soul that had long since withered.

Melissa shifted beside me, breaking the silence again. “Your parents… they still don’t know, do they?”

I shook my head. “No. And they never will.”

She gave me a questioning look, but I continued before she could speak.

“They warned me before I got married. Told me not to take this lightly. If I made this choice, I would have to live with it.” A bitter chuckle slipped out. “I made my bed, so now I have to lie in it.”

I swallowed hard, pushing down the lump rising in my throat. “I’ve caused them enough pain. My name has already been dragged through the mud once before. The people in my village, my own family, they already see me as a disgrace. A woman who isn’t ‘good enough.’ If I walk away from this marriage, they’ll only use it as more proof that I’m a failure. They’ll say it was my fault. That I wasn’t a good wife. That I wasn’t enough.”

I had learned long ago that in the eyes of others, I would always be the problem. No matter what I did, no matter how much I suffered, they would never see me as the victim. Melissa’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

Desperate to shift the conversation away from the suffocating weight of my reality, I forced a smirk and nudged her playfully. “Anyway… what do you think of the new Health Consultant?”

Her serious expression melted into amusement. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re interested?”

I scoffed, shaking my head at her teasing. But my eyes betrayed me, drawn toward the health section where Zayn stood, engaged in conversation with a customer. His posture was straight, his tone firm but composed, his gaze unwavering. There was something captivating about the way he carried himself.

“It’s not like that,” I deflected. “I just… admire his presence. He has a certain charisma.”

Melissa smirked knowingly. “Oh, so now we’re calling it ‘charisma’?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t deny the truth. There was something about Zayn that intrigued me. Maybe it was the way he spoke, with authority, yet never arrogance. Maybe it was the way he commanded attention, not by force, but by the quiet confidence that radiated from him. Or maybe, it was simply the fact that in a world where I constantly felt like I was drowning, he seemed so unshakably steady.

He was serious when he needed to be, yet there was a warmth to him. I had noticed the way customers responded to him, the way they trusted him, the way they listened. He had that rare ability to make people feel at ease, even when delivering harsh truths.

I hadn’t realized how long I’d been watching him until Melissa snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Hello? Earth to Katrina?”

I blinked, startled.

She smirked. “If you stare any longer, he’s going to notice.”

Heat crept up my neck. Had I really been that obvious?

“Shut up,” I muttered, shoving her lightly. “Go do your job.”

Melissa grinned, sticking her tongue out playfully before sauntering off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the unsettling realization that, for the first time in years, someone had managed to catch my attention.