Chapter 1
Tshabina
“Biba!” My childhood name rang in my ears, and without even turning around, I knew exactly who the voice belonged to. Andi, half an hour early for our essential meeting, and already loud enough to wake the whole floor.
He arrived in a blur: pale, straight black hair and a striking wardrobe.
Instead of responding with a warm smile, I darted around as his voice echoed down the office hallway. “Why are you so loud this early in the morning?” I hissed. “These walls have ears, and we do not need to be the center of attention.”
Andi waved a hand, glancing left and right. “Oh, please. Are you saying people are gonna gossip about me just for being a little loud?”
“People here gossip about everything. Remember the pink Stanley? That blew up.”
Andi gaped and gave me a sour face. “Because people here are so old-fashioned, it’s actually painful. Like, who still thinks colors have a gender? I bought one because Kelly Clarkson uses it. I thought maybe my voice would—”
Before he could finish, I cut him off when a man stepped out of the lift, catching my attention immediately. I tugged Andi’s shirt. “Shh, that’s Mr. Aditya,” I whispered, nodding toward the lift.
“Good morning, sir,” we both spoke in unison, dipping our heads.
“Good morning, Tshabina.” There were two people in front of him, but somehow his gaze found only mine. “The meeting starts in twenty minutes. Please prepare the room and equipment,” Aditya said, sharp and to the point, before walking ahead.
Andi looked at me, raising his brow. “Damn, girl, you’re literally doing PA work without the title. It’s always Tshabina this, Tshabina that.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “Honestly, if I were you, I’d just ask to get promoted—”
We stepped into the empty lift, and I pressed the button, cutting him off again. “Andi,” I breathed. “Didn’t I tell you not to say weird things in the office? And stop yelling, seriously.” Glaring at him, I took a deep breath and leaned my shoulder against the lift wall. “My ears are toast!”
Andi clicked his tongue while following me, leaning his shoulders against the wall beside me. “Someone woke up in sensitive mode today, huh? I’m just—ahh!”
Ah… this man really.
Covering my ears, I flinched as his voice rose without warning. “Yeah, damn, it reminded me—wait, you have to see this!” Before I could even blink, he shoved his iPad toward me.
“I already told you not to yell—”
My words stopped when my eyes fell on the news headline glowing on the screen. My focus narrowed, my mind going empty as I looked at it. Seconds stretched, and time around me slowed.
I read the sentence, word by word, letting it sink in.
Zioh Danudara Wins Best Architecture Award for Google’s New Office.
The moment that name appeared on the screen, my throat felt thick. The fragrance of flowers rushed back, thick and cloying. Then came the ghost of the wind, sweeping through my hair and over my skin, leaving nothing but a lingering chill.
“Only for me?” “Only for you.”
My stitches were slowly coming undone, thread by thread.
I stared at the headline for several seconds, unable to pull my gaze away, as if the words and image on the screen had a magnetic pull my eyes couldn’t escape.
“Look, Bib! Zioh is so damn successful!” Andi rambled with an excited tone beside me, and I didn’t know whether that was why my heart hammered against my ribs or if there was something more.
What I did know was that I kept swallowing as a searing heat continued to spread through my body, concentrating behind my eyes.
“He’s been famous since moving to his mom’s country.
And guess what!” Andi waved the iPad back and forth in front of my face.
“Yesterday I bought the latest British Vogue. I wanted to see Tom Holland, but instead Zeraiah was in it!” He let out an exaggerated click of his tongue.
“Both of those siblings are seriously killing it in the UK. I mean, they were always top of the class, and rich too, like a legit chaebol family, but everything really took off after their mom—”
Before Andi could finish, I stepped out of the lift as we reached our floor. “Enough, Ndi. Stop talking and help me set up for the meeting.” I walked ahead, leaving him behind as he tried to catch up.
Actually, Andi knew.
Both my brother and I always avoided the subject whenever people mentioned those two.
Since Zioh and Zeraiah suddenly moved to the UK, we had never spoken about them again.
Over time, without any written rule, their names became He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Every time their names came up, we’d dodge the conversation.
Whenever someone asked, we’d answer, “We don’t know. ”
Because we really didn’t.
“Alright, you four, eyes on the camera! On three, say jeez!” “Mum! It’s cheese!
Not jeez!” We laughed as Zeraiah grumbled.
“One, two, three.” Zioh gripped my shoulder and wrapped me in a tight embrace.
“Cheese!!” Memory after memory flickered into view, cold as the touch of dew in the morning after a storm.
For more than a decade, Zioh, Zeraiah, my brother, and I had lived as though we were four souls sharing one body, and the word “close” almost felt…
cruel to describe us in the past. But in the present, which was where I lived, it felt like thorns wrapped around my feet, stabbing me every time I tried to move forward.
? ── * ── ?
The meeting went on as it always did: account names, content samples, and images. I nodded, offered my input, pretending my mind hadn’t been hit by a single name. Yet beneath the table, my fingers trembled.
Andi and I worked in the Media Communication division of a state-owned energy-sector enterprise. Our task was to publicize information and document everything the company did.
Aditya rose to his feet and gave a nod, signaling the meeting had ended.
At this moment, I only wanted to run down to the station in front of the office to grab a snack before the lifts got crowded. I was about to call Andi when—
“Tshabina, you’re coming with me.” Aditya suddenly declared, “Mr. Hendrik wants to meet with the medcom team to discuss the rough material for next week’s press conference. While I talk, you write down the key points,” he added, then walked out of the meeting room.
“Uh… y-yes, sir!” Fumbling with my bag and stuffing everything inside, I didn’t even look him in the eye.
Andi smirked beside me. “Whoa, look at you. You’re the one invited to meet the Minister of SOEs?
I mean…” He tilted his chin toward our coworkers, who were deep in a loud conversation.
“There’s Mbak Nisa. Mas Anto. They’re more senior…
” He leaned closer, whispering. “Maybe. Just maybe it’s because—”
I cut him off before he could finish. “Do I look okay? Do I smell?” I shifted closer to him. “Come here, sniff my armpits. I’m not gross, right?” Glancing at my reflection in a small mirror I placed on the table, I muttered under my breath.
Andi narrowed his eyes. “Seriously bitch, we can be bitches, but not in that way. What the hell are you doing?”
“First impressions matter, Ndi. Especially he is a minister.”
He shut the mirror in front of me. “Hey! He’s married and old—”
“IN A GOOD WAY,” I silenced him, and I started to get tired of doing it. “And for the record, the last thing I want in this life is to steal someone else’s man. That is not happening.”
Even guessing where his thoughts were headed made my stomach lurch, and the hot chocolate I had this morning threatened to rise back up.
“So, before I smash your head with this mirror, shut up, especially at the office,” I glanced left and right.
“If your mouth gets me dragged into some stupid scandal, I’m throwing you out that window.
” I pointed at the window in front of us.
“We’re on the twentieth floor, you’ll get instant amnesia. ”
Andi’s mouth dropped. “Amnesia? I’d fucking die, you psycho!”
Without bothering to reply, I hurried out to chase after Aditya.
“Hey Bib!” Andi shouted after me. “Want me to hold something for you?!”
“Odeng! Tteokbokki! Spicy soup, and one tuna onigiri!”
? ── * ── ?
“Yes, Mas Aditya, during the press conference, I want the medcom team to be on standby one hour before the event starts. Then…”
While my superiors were talking, I focused on jotting down the main points. Occasionally, I stole a glance in front of me. Flattery fluttered in my chest—when else would I be this close to a minister? Should I ask him for a photo later? Would that be inappropriate—
Before I could finish the thought, the discussion ended. Mr. Hendrik excused himself, leaving only Aditya and me in the room.
“I apologize for stealing your lunch break, Tshabina.”
Aditya blurted out, snapping me out of my daze. “It’s alright, sir. It’s part of my job,” I answered with a small, polite smile.
Aditya gave me a slight nod. “That’s true. You always handle things.” He smiled. “Still, I feel bad. It’s already two.”
His face lit up. “Let’s have lunch together. I’m going to a steak restaurant with some colleagues and partners from the subsidiary project in Setiabudi.” He tilted his head. “You still like steak, right? Or has it changed?”
Raising a brow, his gaze remained fixed on me. “Maybe you like Korean food now? Sometimes I see you watching K-dramas during breaks.” He shoved his chair back—the scrape echoing through the room—and leaned in close. “Please, I want to take responsibility.”
I frowned.
I sat there, blinking, until he asked again. “Well? Tshabina… you’ll join me for lunch, won’t you?”
People said there was always something at work that made you want to quit. For me, this was it. The nagging itch returned, driving me to bite my lip hard, struggling to cage the truth I should have voiced without hesitation. Blowing out a heavy breath, I nodded in agreement.
? ── * ── ?
The restaurant was bustling, filled with clinking cutlery and chatter. Many of my office superiors, division heads, managers, and even our CEO were here.
The moment I walked in, I was a deer among a pack of lions.
The room was crowded, yet the cold air from the air conditioner sank into my bones, forcing me to swallow.
Why did Aditya always bring me into situations like this?
I was a regular employee, not supposed to sit in a place filled with the top damn brass.
“Please, have a seat, Mas Aditya,” one of the division heads greeted.
“Thank you.” Aditya took a chair and motioned for me to sit on the bench beside him.
“Ah, right, Tshabina, I forgot to tell you. For our Setiabudi subsidiary office project, we’re working with a foreign partner.
” He spoke, tilting his head down toward me.
I nodded, yet my gaze kept wandering around the VIP room as I tried to remind myself to keep my best smile in place.
“His father’s company is our investor, so we took the initiative to invite his son as the architect.” I turned to him, listening carefully. “Mr. Bakti Danudara, the founder and chairman of INDTV Group, is our investor. His son is working with us on this project. Ah—there he is.”
The words hit me like a sudden wave.
I blinked. My body stiffened.
What did he say?
For a moment, I was sure I’d misheard.
The Chairman of INDTV Group? Son of INDTV’s Chairman? An architect. So basically, the son of the founder of INDTV Group, who worked as an architect?
My chest tightened until breathing grew difficult.
T-that was...
Before I could process it fully, Aditya’s words were interrupted. Everyone at the table turned their attention toward the entrance. Instinctively, I did the same.
My heart skipped.
A man walked in.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy black hair and deep brown eyes. He was dressed in a sharp suit and carried himself with confidence. Even from this distance, I could smell his scent, which made my eyes widen.
“Welcome to Indonesia, Mr. Danudara,” our CEO said, followed by the others, dipping their heads in respect. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us. Please, take a seat.”
“Thank you.” The man said with a faint smile.
He pulled out a chair and sat down, right in front of me.
For a while, my mind stalled.
My entire body felt hollow, as if my soul had slipped out of me.
Was this real?
Then his gaze lifted.
His eyes met mine, and that was the moment I began to exhale, and the breath I hadn’t known I was holding finally escaped.
As soon as our eyes met, I was that girl again. The one who cried all night, staring at the stars above my room, gripping a phone that was never answered.
My fingers clenched around my pants.
Even after ten years, he still had this grip on me.
We grew up in Jakarta, and we breathed its air for over a decade.
Zioh, Zeraiah, Tsabinu, and I.
Wasn’t it ironic? This capital city of Indonesia teemed with millions, but among them, fate brought together those destined to be apart.
Jakarta, and we shared one thing in common. Just as it had become a former capital, we too had become a—
Past tense.
My body started to quake. “Z… Zioh…” I whispered, almost inaudible.
The man sitting in front of me was Zioh Hadyan Danudara.
My ex–best friend, not only that, but he was also my ex–fiancé.
Before he left without a word.