[The Legacy Series] REDAMANCY - Love's Timeless Path

39th Note

Excitement crackled in the air as I flipped through the concept sketches for the Darmana Hotel in Maryland. The holographic displays showcase a fusion of sleek modern design and traditional Maryland charm.

The rooftop bar boasts stunning views of Chesapeake Bay, while the lobby resembles a cozy library, complete with a crackling digital fireplace. Every detail whispered "luxury with a touch of home."

An oasis nestled amidst the city. We were finally moving beyond the initial planning stages and into the exciting realm of tangible progress.

"Can you imagine? Eventually, we can collaborate with neighborhood tour guides to plan market getaways in the surrounding area. We can create a tour package." I twirled the pen in my hand. I asked Pra and Santos for their approval of my idea.

Pra nodded. "Yes, I agree; that way we can sell a lot of packages from our hotel."

Santos looked at us and just gave us a thumbs up, "I don't really understand it, but it seems like a good idea." He replied while looking back at the design in front of him.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, shattering our discussion. An email notification from my Maryland realtor flashed on the screen. I furrowed my brows. It was a message from Mr. Henderson. I wonder what made him send me an email so early despite the different time between Indonesia and Maryland. The negotiations had been smooth, the location was perfect, and I was about to schedule the final meeting to solidify the deal.

A disquiet settled in my stomach, a premonition that the email wouldn't be a simple confirmation. With a deep breath, I unlocked the phone, the glow illuminating my face in an eerie light, and scrolled down to see what news Mr. Henderson had to impart.

"Dear Ms. Darmana," the email began, the formality stretching across the screen like a bad omen, sending shivers down my spine. "We regret to inform you that Mr. Henderson has decided to withdraw his offer on the proposed hotel location."

"We regret to inform you—what?" My voice trailed off, the sentence dissolving into a strangled gasp. My hand, gripping the coffee mug too tightly, seemed to fight back against the porcelain as I slammed it onto the table. The clatter echoed through the sterile meeting room, momentarily breaking the polite tension that had hung heavy in the air as I sank into the nearest chair, the plush leather offering no comfort.

Pra and Santos, hovering beside me, exchanged a bewildered glance. The email, crisp and clinical, mocked my hopes with every polite turn of phrase.

"Mbak, what's wrong?"

Mr. Henderson has decided to withdraw his offer.

Despair, a cold, heavy hand, threatened to pull me under. Months of tireless work—negotiations that felt like verbal trench warfare, endless site visits, plans honed to a razor's edge, blueprints etched with meticulous precision—all teetering on the precipice of collapse because of a single, fickle heart. My mind began to race with panic—that familiar sensation of being overpowered and on the verge of collapse.

This couldn't be happening. It was absurd. Illogical. Nonsense.

"Wait," the word escaped my lips, a desperate dam against the rising tide of chaos. My hand shot up, a futile shield against the digital blow raining down, as I forced my eyes back to the email, scanning the next line for a shred of salvation.

"This decision was taken because there was further information from the Darmana Hotel to change the location of the hotel."

I widened my eyes.

"Changing the hotel location? Who the hell changed it?" I reflexively screamed. My voice was full of anger and dissatisfaction over the email I had just read.