Alya's Side
Gadis was still asleep, her body tangled in the sheets, her breath soft and steady. I didn't know what exactly had happened to her last night. She came home half-drunk, collapsing into my arms without a word, her kisses scattered like rain on my skin before she fell into sleep. I had helped her out of her crumpled work clothes, gently cleaned her with warm water, worried she might wake up feeling uncomfortable—knowing how particular she was about cleanliness and order.
It had been a long time since I saw her like this—unguarded, fragile. I found myself watching her face, brushing away a few strands of hair that covered her eyes. My longing surged quietly, filling the space between us. I bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Good morning," I whispered.
She stirred and smiled, then curled into my arms again, clinging to the warmth as if the morning was still too heavy to face.
"I love you," she murmured, just barely audible. I wasn't sure if I truly heard it, or only imagined it. I loosened our embrace, hoping she would say it again, clearly this time. But instead, she kissed me—softly, tentatively—then pulled back slightly, maybe worried her breath still carried the remnants of alcohol.
But she didn't need to worry. There was nothing about her that could make me love her any less. Not her breath, not the way she fell asleep in awkward positions, not the silences between us. I closed the space between us once more, and for a moment, it felt like time paused—just us, in our tiny world, untouched by judgment or fate.
Bip bip bip bip.
Her phone buzzed. The kiss broke. She hesitated, but finally picked it up. Her expression shifted slightly as she read the message. She didn't say anything. She just set the phone down, then reached for my hand, pulling me out of bed toward the kitchen.
She ignored her phone completely after that, even as it vibrated again and again. She busied herself with chopping ingredients, preparing breakfast, pretending everything was fine.
There was a silent agreement between us when we decided to be together, undefined and unlabelled. We never crossed into each other's phones or forced confessions. Usually, everything found its way out naturally—between laughter, between held hands, between sips of tea and moments of silence.
But today… she said nothing. And I couldn't stop feeling like something had changed.
I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, hoping that just by holding her, her silence would break, that the truth of last night would flow out gently. She turned briefly, kissed my hands, then returned to chopping.
Gadis' Side
I didn't know that this decision would hurt this much. I tried, again and again, to calm myself down. I didn't want Alya to see me unravel like this.
But it was useless. We knew each other too well. There were no secrets between us—only truths left unsaid, hanging between every glance and every heartbeat. Still, I couldn't bring myself to tell her what really happened last night.
We both sat in silence, lost in our own minds. I paused, spoon halfway to my mouth, watching Alya as she quietly ate her breakfast. How do I even begin this conversation? My thoughts were a storm—not just about Ruben and our final goodbye, but something deeper, more haunting.
When I couldn't bear the weight of it anymore last night, I called Anya—like I always do. She's my person, the one who's always there, no matter the time or distance.
Last night was the first time I told her about Alya. I had already poured out everything about Ruben. But when it came to Alya, Anya didn't say much. She just listened. Then came the sentence that wouldn't stop echoing in my mind.
"Come home, Dis."
That was it. That was all. And yet, it shattered me.
Alya looked up then, reached for my hand gently.
"What's wrong?" she asked, voice soft, eyes filled with concern.
I looked down, took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage for what I was about to say.
"I think… I have to leave earlier than planned."
She blinked, confused. "But it's Sunday. Do you have something for work?"
I held her hand tighter. "No, I mean… I think I need to go back to Indonesia sooner."
"But Anya's wedding isn't for another month," she said, puzzled.
"I know. But there are some things I need to take care of before that," I replied, though I knew it sounded like a weak excuse.
"Okay, I'll take time off. I'll come with you," she said.
"No. Your classes are intense right now. Besides, it's not like you're close to Anya—you don't have to fly halfway across the world just for this."
She looked at me, puzzled. I could see the confusion turn into pain as the pieces slowly came together.
"Do you want to tell everyone you're my girlfriend?" I snapped, voice louder than I meant.
The words hit her like a slap. Her expression darkened. She pulled her hand away and stood up without saying another word.
I followed her, but she had already disappeared into the bedroom. I heard the door slam. I could hear her crying.
I sat down on the couch, frozen, helpless.
If I could choose, I would never leave her. But I didn't have that choice. Right now, I needed to run. Not because I didn't love her, but because I loved her too much. And staying would only hurt us both in the end.