REDAMANCY - Love's Timeless Path

19th Note

The steering wheel felt cool against my clammy palms, a welcome contrast to the furnace that was my brain. It had been one of those days where the universe seemed determined to pile deadlines and meetings onto my plate, each one thicker and juicier than the last. By the time I escaped the office, the sky was painted a bruised purple, and the city lights were already twinkling like spilled glitter.

My head throbbed in sync with the incessant ringing of my phone. Another marketing fiasco, another PR nightmare. The news cycle was feasting on the hotel chain issues I was somehow supposed to fix, all before tomorrow's crucial board meeting. Forget champagne wishes and caviar dreams; I better get a pot of strong coffee tonight.

Exhausted but fueled by adrenaline and three packets of instant noodles today- plus Pra's non-stop nagging, I finally got everything done. My eyelids felt like sandpaper as I merged onto the freeway, and night began to fall, the city lights blurring into a neon river rushing beneath me. The past few days had been a non stop adrenaline rush, my brain felt like scrambled eggs, and my body ached for something more soothing.

A million tiny diamonds sprinkled across the inky black canvas above, and the headlights danced in the distance like fireflies, their beams stretching out into the velvety darkness. The occasional streetlamp cast long, dramatic shadows across the road. My hands, loose on the steering wheel, hummed with the soft vibration of the car as I cruised down the highway.

I had danced with the night, embraced its stillness, and found a sense of peace I hadn't known I needed. And with that, I turned the car around, carrying the magic of the night with me. Pulling into the familiar street, my phone chimed again.

King

See you soon at the hospital, love.

18.49

And yeah, instead of collapsing onto the couch with a tub of ice cream and a questionable rom-com (don't judge), I was navigating to the hospital parking lot. I know the hospital wasn't exactly romantic, but after spending the day battling corporate fires, seeing his warm smile would be the perfect balm to my frayed nerves.

My stomach churned in nervous anticipation as I pushed open the hospital door. The sterile scent hit me first, followed by the rhythmic beeping of machines and the hushed murmurs of people. I navigated the maze of white corridors, the bouquet feeling heavier with each step. Finally, I reached his room. The door was ajar, and my heart lurched. Inside, Jendra wasn't alone.

He sat on the edge of his table; a wide grin plastered on his face. But it wasn't directed at me. It was aimed at the woman standing in front of him, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes.

Who is that? What are they doing? Why are they here? Many wild questions filled my mind.

My smile froze, replaced by a cold knot of suspicion. They seemed...comfortable. Too comfortable. Jendra's gaze met mine, his grin faltering for a brief second before snapping back into place.

"Hey." His voice held a forced cheerfulness that grated on my nerves.

"Hey," I managed, my voice tight.

That woman finally noticed me, her smile faltering slightly. "Hi! Nice to see you. Aku Rara, temen satu angkatannya Jendra waktu kuliah." But her eyes flickered at Jendra, a silent question hanging in the air. Her perfume clung to the air like a silent accusation. I thought I was sick of smelling it.

The silence stretched thick and suffocating. "How long have you been here?" I finally asked, my voice strained.

Rara shifted uncomfortably. "Just arrived. We actually don't have any meeting schedules today. I bring soup my mother made..." she trailed off, sending a playful swat at Jendra's arm. "We were catching up, that's all."

"Catching up?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "Since when do you need soup and hour-long catch-up sessions in the hospital?"

I could see Jendra's smile faltering. "Haira, don't be like that. It's not — "

"Isn't what?" I snapped, the ice in my stomach finally cracking. "Suspicious? Because trust me, it is."

The room seemed to shrink, and the hustle and bustle outside the door sounded like a mocking soundtrack to our fight. Rara's eyes darted between us, her discomfort palpable.

"It's not what it looks like," he began, the pleading evident in his voice.

But the words wouldn't stick. The carefully constructed image of our perfect relationship seemed to crack, revealing the doubts I'd buried under layers of trust. The phone call, the convenient excuse, the undeniable chemistry between them—it all screamed betrayal.

"You're overreacting," she said, her voice tight. "We're just friends."

"Just friends who act awfully comfortable for friends," I shot back, hurt lacing my voice. "Just friends who meet in the hospital for 'soup' and forget to mention it AGAIN to their fiancee?"

My breath hitched, the carefully constructed box of my composure shattering into a million pieces. Tears, hot and unwelcome, welled up in my eyes, blurring the sterile white walls. I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the room. Without a word, I turned and walked away, the echo of my heels the only punctuation in the suffocating silence. The anger had morphed into a cold, hollow ache, the weight of a broken promise settling heavy on my chest.

"Haira, please," Jendra reached for me, but I recoiled, the touch of his hand a searing brand. "It's not what you think," he pleaded, but the words rang hollow. What did I need him to say? Did I need him to lie, to weave some elaborate tale that would mend the gaping hole in my heart?

Jendra opened his mouth to retort, but I held up a hand, my voice trembling with anger. "Save it, Rajendra Lingga Dinata. I'm done."

The sterile scent of the hospital clung to me as I walked out, the night air a welcome slap of cold reality. The city lights twinkled, mockingly indifferent to the storm brewing within me.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring the world around me. Suddenly, I crashed into a solid figure, sending apologies tumbling from my lips before I recognized the familiar face in front of me.

He caught my arm, steadying me. "Whoa, Haira, what's wrong? Did a rogue hospital bed attack you?" A familiar voice cut through the haze.

"Jagad?" I choked out, surprised to see my best friend standing there, looking concerned. His warm brown eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now filled with genuine worry.

The moment Jagad's warm hand touched mine, a dam within me broke. Words tumbled out in a torrent, and I sniffled, tears turning into full-blown sobs. "It's Jendra," I managed between hiccups. "And Rara... and a hospital visit... and I..."

My voice was raw and ragged, it was lost in the pain that filled my chest, replaced by fresh tears and hiccups.

"What do you mean?" There was a worried tone there. But I couldn't utter a single word other than sobbing. It felt like I could no longer speak in response to his questions that I kept hearing.

I couldn't even bring myself to look back. Too scared to acknowledge that Jendra wasn't after me. My arms hugged Jagad tightly, burying my face in his shoulder.

Jendra's words echoed in my head, but the hurt drowned them out. Just friends? Maybe. However, the truth—whatever it was—had shattered the sunshine I'd brought him, leaving behind only the cold sting of betrayal.