Chapter 39 Breaking Wynter
Breaking Wynter
Losing a sister does something to you, something that once undone cannot be sewn back together.
Watching someone you love lose a part of himself also shatters you, deeply so.
I remember Jiwon every waking minute of every day.
This fact is that it cannot be diminished.
Oftentimes I think my friends think of me as cold, detached.
I am not sunshine and pink skies like Sydney, I don’t light up rooms when I walk into them.
I’m not humor and poetry like Jax, I can’t string together words with expert ease and command they are comprehensible.
I cannot play the piano and enchant crowds to my sheer will like Cahya or act and make people believe me like Remi.
I am liquid smooth, I go wherever the wind takes me, I am whoever everyone thinks I am but—
Not with Wynter. Only to him, I find myself able to unlock a side of me unlike any other.
A side that never left Jakarta and wasn’t bent to the wants and needs of others.
A side of me that can let her guard down and lower her defences that have been up for so long.
Being with Wynter Kwon was like a rest stop on a long drive.
Like finally taking the backseat on a tiresome road trip and allowing myself to sleep without a worry in the world of where the car is going, because it didn’t matter where I was or where I was headed with Wynter, he was my home, with him I was at true peace.
The last person who ever made me feel that way before him was Jiwon, but she isn’t here anymore and it’s time to accept that she hasn’t been in a long time and never will be.
We let her down, we broke the rules and faced the consequences of our actions.
You’d think that perhaps kids shouldn’t have to learn that way—and yet we did.
We learned not to get burned by pressing our palms to a burning flame, learned not to put too much pressure on thin ice by watching someone we loved fall beneath it.
So you see, I have been faced with hard truths all my life and this one that I was living was no different.
And I risked the only peace I’d ever known in a selfish, twisted pursuit.
I found myself regretting every minuscule detail of knowledge I’d gained from reading his diary, because it was like winning a marathon by putting weights in the pockets of my opponents.
I cheated my way to the finish line, and therefore I could not blame Wynter if he hated me now—I’d hate me too.
I last saw Wynter two days ago; he ignored all my phone calls and messages.
I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep—I was living in this loop of my own shame.
The look in his eyes, his fury, his tears.
It was all my doing. So I lay there in my bed, ignoring my siblings’ advances—even encouraging calls from my father, that’s how I knew he had to have been concerned.
The room felt like a tomb, the air thick and unmoving, heavy with a silence I couldn’t escape.
Curtains pulled tight. Light shut out. I stayed curled in the corner of my bed, knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around them as if they could hold the pieces of me together.
The world outside the door might as well have stopped.
I heard the knock first, soft, hesitant. Then the door creaked open, slow and cautious, and Cahya stepped inside. I didn’t look up. I didn’t move.
“You need to eat,” he said, his voice too steady, too careful, like he thought he could coax me out with kindness.
I stared at the floor, the wood grain a blur, my head heavy against my knees.
“I brought you soup,” he continued, setting the tray down on the desk. “Something easy. Just try a little, okay?”
I didn’t respond.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. I felt the way his gaze lingered on me, like he was trying to reach past the walls I’d built, trying to pull me back into the world.
“You don’t have to talk,” he said, softer now. “But you can’t keep doing this, Yesoh. You can’t stay in here forever. The world is still out there waiting for you, no matter how long you shut it out.”
His words were gentle, but they felt like cracks splintering across the surface of something I’d tried so hard to keep contained. I tightened my arms around my knees, burying my face deeper.
“We all still care about you you know, even if you are a little crazy—that may be news to Wynter—but we’re your family, it’s certainly not news to us,” he joked, his voice lighter, trying to humor me, but I couldn’t.
“You’ll be okay, I know it doesn’t feel that way but yeah.
I’m not exactly good at this being in between two people I love thing. ”
I flinched but stayed silent.
That was something I hadn’t considered before, how hard it must’ve been for Cahya to find out what I had done. It put them in a very difficult position, between his sister and his best friend. I realized that he had no choice in the matter. He loves Wynter too.
He sighed then, the sound full of frustration and something softer, something helpless. “I get it,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re angry with me, I know it feels easier like this. But it’s not.”
I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. The weight in my chest pressed down harder, threatening to crush me under it.
Finally, he stood, the bed creaking as he left. “I’ll leave the food here,” he said, his voice distant now. “Please just eat something, okay?”
Later on, the door opened again, barely a minute after Cahya left. I thought he’d come back, ready to try again, but it wasn’t him.
“Can I come in?” Soleh’s voice was small, almost tentative, and it made my chest tighten in a way that Cahya’s words hadn’t.
I didn’t answer, but he took my silence as permission. The door creaked open wider, and he shuffled inside.
“I brought my Switch,” he said, holding it up like a peace offering. “Thought maybe we could play.”
I didn’t move.
He sat down on the floor near the bed, his back against the frame. The glow of the screen lit up his face, soft and pale in the dim room. “I thought we could play The Legend of Zelda.” he said, his tone light, hopeful. “Or maybe Mario Kart? I’ll let you win.”
The words pierced something deep inside me. I stayed still, my chest tightening as I stared at the sliver of light coming through the curtain. Wyn used to say that. Wyn always let me win. Every time.
“Please?” Soleh said, his voice quieter now.
Without thinking, I slid off the bed, moving slowly until I was sitting on the floor across from him. He didn’t react, didn’t comment on the way I kept my eyes down, my hands trembling slightly as I took the controller he handed me.
He set up the game quickly, his fingers moving with practiced ease. The familiar music of Zelda filled the silence, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in the bright colors of the screen.
“Why is it so hard to fight this monster?” Soleh said, groaning dramatically as he fumbled his turn. “I’m pretty sure this game is rigged.”
I didn’t laugh, but my lips twitched faintly.
“You’re good at this,” he said as I completed a perfect recipe. “I don’t think I’ve ever beaten you.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. Wyn had said the same thing once, in this exact tone, with that same small, crooked smile.
The controller slipped from my hands, landing softly in my lap. My vision blurred, tears pooling before I could stop them. The memory of him letting me win, laughing softly, ruffling my hair when I pouted—it all came rushing back, overwhelming me.
“Are you okay?” Soleh asked, his voice small, hesitant.
I nodded, but the tears spilled over, hot and silent, streaking down my face as I clutched the controller like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the moment.
Soleh didn’t say anything for a long time. He just sat there, close enough to be a presence but far enough to give me space. It was the kind of quiet comfort I didn’t know I needed.
When I finally spoke, my voice was hoarse, barely audible. “Where is he, Soleh?”
“Are you sure you wanna know, Soh?” He glanced around awkwardly.
“Tell me,” I pleaded.
He hesitated, and I could feel the weight of his answer hanging in the air. “Cahya said he flew back to the US,” he said quietly. “Yesterday.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs. Wyn was gone. He’d left without a word, without waiting for me to fix things, without giving me the chance to make it right.
“You hurt him really bad, Yesoh, I saw him crying when he left,” Soleh said. “I am not saying this to make you feel bad but whenever I make my friends upset sometimes I just need to give them space.”
“Yeah…” I swallowed hard.
“They also have to know that you didn’t mean it and that you’re sorry,” Soleh said. “Are you sorry, Yesoh?”
His words hung in the air with such weight, Am I sorry?
I got the sense that it didn’t matter whether I was sorry yet or not—he was going to make me sorry.
I knew Wynter better than anyone, I can declare that with utmost confidence.
And what I knew above all is that while he was the kindest person it took one misstep to make him never speak to you again.
I nodded numbly, tears falling faster now, my hands trembling as I placed the controller on the floor. Soleh didn’t push me, didn’t ask any questions. He just stayed there, his presence a small light in the overwhelming darkness.
And for the first time in days, I let myself cry for real—deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook my whole body. Because Wynter was gone, I had hurt him, and I didn’t know if he’d ever come back.