REDAMANCY - Love's Timeless Path

38th Note

I remember having a beautiful dream last night, but the joy it held transformed into a leaden weight in my chest as I woke. My eyes stung, my vision blurred, and damp patches marred my cheeks. My hands hurt because they gripped the nightgown I was wearing, so tightly that it wrinkled.

Sitting up slowly, I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes, willing back the relentless tears that threatened to spill over. It was as if the dream itself, a bittersweet phantom, had punched me, leaving me breathless and reeling. The ache in my chest intensified, a stark reminder of the empty space beside me where Jendra used to be.

"Ugh," A soft groan escaped my lips as a throbbing sensation pulsed in my head, dizziness swirling behind my eyes.

I grabbed the phone on the nightstand. Looking for short messages from anyone who tells me how Jendra is now. But nothing.

"God," I muttered. It felt impossible to suddenly get used to it without any news from him.

I lied down again. Staring at the empty ceiling made me think about what stories I could write there. What memories do I want to display there? There were so many that it made me feel sick if I had to remember them one by one. Not because I didn't like it, but because it felt suffocating to remember it at a time like this.

Still half conscious, I felt a soft buzz from my phone. I rubbed my eyes a little when I saw the name that appeared on the screen.

"Yes, Pra?"

"Where are you?"

"Apartment." I answered quietly while glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

08.37

"I'll be there in 10 minutes. Our meeting is at 9, right? Could you please help me prepare it, Pra."

"Okay."

There was a long pause before the voice on the other end of the phone spoke again.

"You okay?"

I just smiled at his question.

"See you, Pra."

The air in the conference room was thick with the scent of stale coffee and nervous anticipation. My pen tapped a syncopated beat against the polished mahogany table, a counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of my team. Across the vast expanse of the surface, blueprints lay sprawled like a conquered battlefield. Each crease, each meticulously drawn line, spoke of countless sleepless nights and gallons of burnt coffee.

The projector flickered to life, casting the latest iteration of the grand staircase design onto the wall. It was a testament to the collective will of the room, a physical manifestation of the mountain we were about to climb. The launch date loomed, a menacing monolith on the horizon. Every decision, from the thread count of the Egyptian cotton to the precise shade of the orchids gracing the lobby, felt like a foothold on the treacherous path. This wasn't just a hotel; it was my Everest, and with each detail chosen, I was one step closer to planting my flag at the summit.

Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile at the bickering design team. "Let's revisit the marble option. It feels a touch too...funereal, don't you think?"

"Though it indeed exudes luxury, I am afraid I need to agree with you this time, Mbak." Santos, the lead designer, nodded and jotted down some notes in his journal.

I was quite surprised with his response since, as the sole heir to the Darmana family fortune, I was often underestimated.

But this time, for some reason, I was sure there would be many good things that I could achieve. I gently rubbed the ring on my finger. I prayed in my heart that the spirits I had received from Jendra could accompany me this time even without him beside me.