Inside a lively WhatsApp group chat named The Squad, chaos erupted as soon as the electronic wedding invitations were sent out.
Lia: GUYS, check your emails NOW. You won’t believe this. 😳
Arga: Is this some kind of joke? Tara... and Raka? MARRIED?!
Bayu: What? No way. They hate each other.
Lia: No kidding. Remember when Tara said she’d rather kiss a snake than date Raka?
Arga: And Raka called her ‘one of the boys.’ 😂
Bayu: So why the sudden wedding? Blackmail? Pregnancy?
Lia: Pregnant? HA! Tara would’ve beaten him up first.
The notifications came in rapid-fire, everyone trying to process the unthinkable.
Lia: But seriously, I don’t get it. These two can’t even sit in the same room without arguing.
Arga sent a screenshot of the e-invitation: Raka Pratama & Tara Santoso: Wedding on October 27th.
Arga: It’s not a prank. It’s happening.
Lia: Wait till I see Tara. I need answers, and I need them NOW.
---
Tara sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. She could feel the WhatsApp group chat blowing up, but she didn’t have the energy to respond. Her friends would never understand this marriage—they didn’t know the pressure her family had put on her, or how deeply tangled the debt between the Santosos and Pratamas ran.
Her phone buzzed. It was Lia calling.
Tara sighed and picked up. “Lia, before you ask—”
“You’re seriously marrying Raka?” Lia interrupted, her disbelief cutting through the phone. “Like, that Raka? The one who made you cry in middle school?”
Tara pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s... complicated.”
“Complicated?” Lia scoffed. “You hate him, Tara!”
Tara kept her voice calm. “It’s not about feelings. It’s just something I have to do.”
There was silence on the other end. Then Lia muttered, “Girl, blink twice if they’re holding you hostage.”
Tara let out a small laugh despite herself. “I’m fine, Lia. I promise.”
“Fine? You’re marrying a jerk who once said you’d never make it as a ‘real girl,’ and you’re telling me you’re fine?”
Tara tightened her grip on the phone, forcing down the lump in her throat. She knew Lia was only trying to protect her, but the truth was... there was no way out.
---
Meanwhile, Raka was lying on his leather sofa, lazily scrolling through his phone when a message popped up from Arga.
Arga: Bro, explain this wedding thing. Is this for real?
Raka smirked as he typed back:
Yup. You’ll see me walk down the aisle, all handsome and married.
Arga: You’re insane. You two don’t even like each other.
Raka: Love doesn’t have to make sense, does it?
Arga sent a barrage of laughing emojis. “Love”? You? Yeah right. Is this revenge for something?
Raka grinned. Let’s just say... I’m having fun with this.
When Arga called next, Raka let it ring out. He wasn’t in the mood to explain himself. The truth? The marriage wasn’t his idea either, but now that it was happening, he intended to enjoy it—especially if it meant messing with Tara.
Raka opened Tara’s contact on WhatsApp. His message was short:
Miss me yet, wife?
Tara saw Raka’s message appear on her screen and felt her blood pressure spike. She could practically hear his smug voice behind the text.
She typed a reply but then deleted it, exhaling slowly to calm herself. After a few moments, she settled on something polite:
No, and I don’t plan to.
His response came back instantly:
That’s okay. We’ve got a lifetime for you to change your mind.
Tara tossed her phone onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. This was going to be hell.
---
The next day, Tara sat in a small café with Lia, Bayu, and Arga, who had gathered to dissect the situation over coffee.
“This whole thing is insane,” Arga muttered, stirring his drink. “They’re like fire and ice. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.”
“Agreed,” Lia said, taking a sip of her iced latte. “Tara, you’re too polite for someone like Raka. He’ll drive you crazy.”
Tara gave them a tired smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.”
“You’re seriously going through with it?” Bayu asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you’d find some way to back out.”
Tara shook her head. “It’s... complicated.”
Lia narrowed her eyes. “Does Raka know how to treat you right? Because if he pulls any of his usual crap—”
“He’s not the problem,” Tara interrupted softly. “It’s my family. I don’t have a choice.”
Arga leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Man, this is going to be a train wreck, and I’m here for it.”
Lia shot him a look. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”
“I am!” Arga grinned. “I’m supporting the entertainment value.”
Tara rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little. She’d need her friends now more than ever—even if they thought her marriage was a disaster waiting to happen.
---
Back at her apartment, Tara stared at the countdown on her phone: seven days until the wedding.
Her thoughts drifted to Raka—his smug grin, his infuriating charm, and the way he always knew exactly how to push her buttons. She could already imagine him teasing her mercilessly during the ceremony, enjoying every second of her discomfort.
She clenched her fists, determined not to let him break her. No matter what happened, she would stay polite, composed, and in control. If Raka wanted to play games, fine. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
Her phone buzzed with another message from Raka.
Can’t wait to see you in white, wife.
Tara’s heart pounded with frustration, but she forced herself to smile.
Enjoy it while it lasts, husband.
YOU ARE READING
Bound in Flames
RomanceWhen tomboyish and composed Tara is forced into marriage with Raka, a cocky charmer who knows exactly how to get under her skin, sparks fly—but not the romantic kind. Bound by family duty and old debts, the two enemies are thrust into a relationship...
