Patience Heart

Fate 1

Back at Chattame, this week was dedicated to crafting mock-ups and finalizing designs. The third floor, where the engineers and developers worked, had become a second home to me. I often found myself sinking into one of the beanbag chairs scattered around, sketching out ideas while soaking in the atmosphere of the space.

Today, I was deeply engrossed in my work, lost in a world of design and creativity. The buzz of the office around me was a distant hum as I focused intently on my drawings. Mama Dee had mentioned earlier that Mr. Adrian was back in the office today, and I was both nervous and excited about the upcoming introduction.

The clock ticked on, and when the time finally came, Mama Dee appeared beside me with a cheerful grin. "Hey, Ellie," she called out, her voice cutting through my concentration. "Mr. Adrian is in the office today. I've already briefed him on everything, so I'll introduce you after lunch."

I nodded, trying to keep my anticipation in check. I couldn't wait to meet him, though the nerves fluttering in my stomach betrayed my calm exterior.

Lunchtime passed in a blur, and soon enough, Mama Dee guided me towards Mr. Adrian's office. My heart raced with every step we took, each footfall echoing my mounting anxiety. As we approached the door, which was slightly ajar, I could see a sliver of the office through the gap. The scene inside was a study in contrasts: a man with glasses perched on his nose was hunched over his desk, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.

Mama Dee gave a polite knock before opening the door. "Hi, boss," she called out, her voice warm and welcoming. "Our interior designer is here."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. As the door creaked open, I caught a glimpse of the man's face. For a split second, time seemed to stand still. There he was—Adam. My Adam. My heart pounded violently against my ribs, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. The room around him seemed to blur, and all my focus was drawn to the familiar features of the man I had thought I left behind in Jakarta.

Adam's head snapped up from his paperwork, his eyes locking with mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The look of disbelief on his face mirrored my own shock. I could see the confusion and surprise etched into his expression, as if he was trying to reconcile the person before him with the memories of our past.

Mama Dee, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing between us, stepped aside and gestured towards me with a warm smile. "Boss, this is Ellen Turner, our interior designer."

I felt a chill run through me. The familiarity of Adam's presence in such an unexpected setting was disorienting. My breath caught in my throat, and my palms felt clammy despite the warmth of the office. Adam slowly stood up, his movements deliberate as he extended his hand towards me.

"Hi, Adam Adrian," he said, his voice steady but with a slight tremor, betraying his own surprise.

"Hi, Mr. Adrian," I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm Ellen Turner."

"Hello, Miss Turner," Adam said, his tone a mix of formality and something more personal. "You can just call me Adam."

Our hands met in a handshake, and I could feel the warmth of his grip against my cold, trembling fingers. It was a sensation that was both comforting and unsettling. The contrast between the warmth of his hand and the chill of mine was symbolic of the emotional upheaval I was experiencing.

My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear Mama Dee's introduction. "Bos, this is Ellen Turner, our interior designer."

I felt a shiver run through me as I struggled to process the reality of the situation. Adam's eyes widened with surprise, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin around me. His familiar features, now framed by the glow of the office lights, sent a rush of memories flooding back.

Adam stood up from his chair, his movements slightly stiff as he extended his hand towards me. I could see the disbelief on his face mirroring the shock I felt. His once-comforting presence now felt like a jarring twist of fate.

"Hi, Adam Adrian," he said, his voice steady but with a slight tremor, betraying his own surprise.

"Hi, Mr. Adrian," I managed to say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm Ellen Turner."

"Hello, Miss Turner," he replied, his tone a mixture of formality and something else I couldn't quite place. "You can just call me Adam."

As he extended his hand, I felt a strange mix of emotions. His grip was strong, warm, and reassuring—yet it contrasted sharply with my own hand, which felt damp and cold from my nervousness. I could barely meet his eyes, my heart racing so fast I feared it might leap out of my chest.

I looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction, but found myself lost in a sea of mixed emotions. The familiarity of his gaze, even after all these years, was both comforting and disorienting. The professional veneer we both wore felt fragile, threatened by the weight of our shared history.

I could see the recognition in his eyes despite the new name and my slightly different appearance. To someone who once knew me so well, I was still Viola, even if I had tried to reinvent myself.

Adam's expression was a tumultuous blend of surprise and confusion. He seemed to be struggling with the realization that the woman standing before him was not just Ellen Turner but someone from his past. The silence between us was thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Each moment stretched into what felt like eternity, and the air in the room seemed charged with the weight of our history.

I managed a small, shaky smile. "It's good to see you too, Mr. Adrian."

The formality of the greeting felt inadequate against the backdrop of our tangled past. My voice, though steady, betrayed the tumult of emotions I was trying to mask. I was acutely aware of the gravity of the situation and how every word and gesture might be scrutinized by Adam. It was as if I was walking a tightrope, trying to balance between the professional facade I needed to maintain and the personal turmoil I felt inside.

The silence stretched between us, becoming almost unbearable. The tension was palpable, and I could sense that Adam was grappling with his own set of emotions. The room, with its stark black and white decor and the cluttered desk, seemed to echo the sense of disconnection between us.

Mama Dee, sensing the tension, cleared her throat gently. Her voice broke through the heavy silence. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted while I handle some other matters. If you need anything, just let me know."

With a reassuring smile, she turned and exited the room, leaving Adam and me alone. The door clicked softly behind her, and the office was enveloped in an even more profound silence. The only sounds were the distant hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustle of papers on Adam's desk.

Adam took a deep breath, breaking the silence that had settled between us. His eyes, intense and searching, locked onto mine. "So, Ellen... Viola. How did you end up here?"

There was no mistaking it. He recognized me. His use of my old name, followed by the tentative acknowledgment of my new one, was a clear indication that the past was very much alive in this moment.

Before I could respond, Adam gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, sit, Viola. Let's talk."

I hesitated for a heartbeat, then moved to the chair he had indicated, my heart pounding in my chest. I sat down, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. The room felt suddenly smaller, as if the walls were closing in with the weight of our shared history.

Adam remained standing for a moment, his posture stiff as he seemed to gather his thoughts. The air between us crackled with tension, a stark contrast to the professional atmosphere we had been trying to maintain. Finally, he took a seat behind his desk, leaning forward slightly, his gaze never leaving me.