REDAMANCY - Love's Timeless Path

20th Note

The rhythmic click of my heels echoed down the deserted hallway, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic counterpoint to the silence.

From my tenth-floor window, the city's late-night excitement was palpable. Neon signs bled onto the inky canvas of the sky. It was past midnight, and the only other sound was the distant honk of cars somewhere in the city, which added its own melancholic melody. But none of it could soothe the storm brewing inside me.

My apartment unit was tantalizingly close. The air hung thick with the cloying sweetness of night-blooming jasmine when I opened the door—a fragrance usually comforting but now suffocating.

I could hear my phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Every notification seemed like a jolt to my already-shattered reality. Jendra's name flashed on the screen, a constant reminder of the fight, the accusations, and the storm I was about to face. I decided I needed a distraction, so I turned up the music and let the lively beat fill the apartment.

I took off my shoes and sloppily placed them on the shelf. Washing my feet before finally taking off my clothes one by one. I was about to button my shirt when the doorbell rang.

My breath hitched.

Who visited my apartment in the dead of night?

I gently shook my head. Counteract the effects of the liquor I just chugged while enjoying the voice of Lara—a jazz singer—at one of my and Giandra's favorite lounges.

Hesitantly, I cautiously peered through the peephole. My eyes widened, almost unable to believe what I was seeing. Jendra stood there, looking sheepish yet determined.

What is he doing here?

I grumbled to myself while buttoning my shirt again.

Maybe he actually had a decent explanation? Or maybe he was almost as drunk as me? My stomach was clenched. After last night's fiasco, the last thing I wanted was to deal with him right now.

But I didn't think I could possibly let him stand in front of the door. The security below might come up to my unit and do all kinds of interrogation. I took a deep breath and carefully opened the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sayang," he pleaded, pushing his way past me into the apartment. "I know I messed up last night, but you have to hear me out."

"There's nothing to hear out," I said stiffly. "Your actions speak louder than words."

"Please." He pleaded again, reaching for me.

I flinched back when his touch brushed against my skin. The touch I once craved was now a foreign language I couldn't decipher. It was like a searing reminder of the trust I'd placed in him—the trust he'd so easily shattered.

"Don't," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Just... talk."

"I want to explain," he began, his voice laced with desperation. "Rara and I are just friends."

Just friends? The words were as painful as a blow to the face. It was hollow, and I would never forget the picture of him and Rara together—a continual reminder of the lie he was attempting to weave.

"Friends don't act like that, Jen."

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mirroring my own. "It was nothing like that! We were discussing a project, that's all."

"A project that requires a bowl of soup and dishonesty?" I countered, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "Come on, Jen, don't insult my intelligence."

"Stop it. You're overthinking this."

"Overthinking?" I cried out, my voice echoing in the deserted hallway. "Am I overthinking the way she smiles and looks at you?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off. "Save it. I'm tired, Jendra. Tired of the justifications and excuses. If there's nothing there, then why does it feel like there's everything?"

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the harsh lines of his face. The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by the ragged gasps of my own breath.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he finally said in a low voice. "But if you don't trust me — ,"

"Trust?" I choked out a humorless laugh. "How can I trust you when you make me question everything? You lied to me, Jen. YOU DEALT WITH THE SAME PROBLEM TWICE!

"RA!"

His voice was laced with desperation at calling my name, and a sliver of uncertainty pierced my rage. But before I could talk back, another voice, gruff and irritated, cut through the night.

"What's all the racket about?" My grumpy neighbour, Pak Budi, came out of his flat with a frown on his face and a rumpled robe.

Shame washed over me. I couldn't let him think I was having some late-night rendezvous. With a sigh, I shut the door a few inches after I apologized to him.

Jendra stood there, his eyes beseeching and his face pale beneath the dim light. He reached for me again, but I stepped back, the space between us an insurmountable chasm.

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, I cut him off.

"Dengerin ya Jen," I said, my voice low. I was unable to recall how many times I called him by name instead of 'sayang'. "I need some time," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "Buat memroses semua yang terjadi di antara aku sama kamu." I emphasized my words. Hoping that he would realize how upset I was that I used Indonesian to answer him.

"All right," he responded in a rough voice. "But please, don't shut me out, Ra."

I didn't reply. With a final, lingering look, he turned and walked away. I stood there, the weight of the night pressing down on me, the city lights shimmering like mocking tears in the distance. The storm inside me had subsided, replaced by a chilling emptiness. Sleep was still a distant dream, but for now, all I craved was the numbing comfort of solitude.

I slammed the door shut, the click was final and unforgiving. The silence that followed thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. I sank to the floor, leaning against the cool wood of the door.

Was I overreacting? Or was I protecting myself from further hurt? The questions swirled in my head, offering no easy answers. The scent of jasmine clinging to me like an unwanted memory—I knew this wasn't just about Rara. It was about the trust and the unspoken promises that all shattered in the blink of an eye.

The echo of his words hung heavy in the air.

"Don't shut me out."

But the door had already creaked shut, and the lock clicked firmly into place, leaving me alone with the storm's aftermath.