Chapter 3 #2
Tsabinu was his mirror image. My twin brother was practically a younger version of him, only taller.
Tsabinu had inherited every good thing from him: gentleness, a soft-spoken nature, calm maturity, love of reading, and courtesy.
He was the golden boy. Even their careers were aligned in law.
Dad was once a gifted lawyer before retiring early due to illness.
Andi wiped at his perfectly dry eyes. “Ahh, Dad Prabu~ I’m so touched,” he crooned, a teasing smile in his damn voice, hugging my dad. I winced and kicked him off to the side, only for him to growl and cling tighter to Dad, making Tsabinu sigh.
My brother kissed Dad’s cheek. “Shall we eat the cake? It’s late, but we can move to the dining table if you’d like.”
I kissed his other cheek, making him laugh.
Dad looked at each of us with love in his eyes. “Come on, sweethearts, let’s go to the table,” Dad said with a calming smile.
At the dining table, I cut the cake into slices and passed them out one by one. Then I cut an extra piece.
“Don’t forget to give one to your mother, Dek,” Dad reminded with a warm smile.
I smiled back at him. “Of course, Dad.”
I carried the plate out through the hallway beside the kitchen, passing guest rooms until I reached the corner. There, by the door of Dad’s bedroom, stood a table covered with photos and keepsakes.
Mom’s altar.
There were photos of her life, our family, her younger days, and her performances as a traditional dancer. She was so beautiful; if Tsabinu was Dad’s copy, then I was hers. People used to mistake us for sisters.
Tshabina Putri Sophia and Tsabinu Putra Prabu—they were named after them.
Their names were embedded in ours to declare their love endlessly. My name was the daughter of Sophia, and my brother was the son of Prabu.
And now, those names meant everything. A reminder that she would never leave me. Every day, every second, I bring her with me. I stared at her photo, and my tears burned again. The ache returned, sharp and relentless.
I had grown up.
But when the world felt heavy, I was still just a child.
A child who needed her mother’s hug.
So many people had left me.
Was I so unworthy to stay for?
“Mom…” My whisper cracked as tears fell onto the table.
“It’s Dad’s birthday today, but we didn’t bake for him this year because Mas and I were too busy, so we bought one.
If you were here, we’d still eat your cake, right?
” My lips trembled. “Dad’s older now, Mom.
Your husband got wrinkles everywhere.” My hand stroked the photo, and with every swipe, sobs of pain came out.
“Watch over me, Mas, and Dad from up there, okay?”
I didn’t want to cry. This was supposed to be a happy day. Dad’s day. But the more I wiped my eyes, the more I unleashed another downpour of tears.
I slipped upstairs, not wanting to ruin their joy with my weakness. I buried myself in my pillow, soaking it with tears until sleep finally claimed me.
? ── * ── ?
I was late.
My pants were wrinkled, and my hair was messy, as my hands alternated between clutching at both.
It was already ten a.m. when I was supposed to meet Zioh. But Andi had taken forever in the bathroom this morning, as if he were meditating. And now, we were late.
My head pounded because I’d barely slept three hours, waking up again at four with nausea twisting my stomach. And on top of that, my heart had been pounding out of control the whole ride here.
This would be my second encounter with Zioh.
Not as friends. Not as lovers.
But as boss and subordinate.
As an honored guest of my company.
Cold sweat prickled my skin.
I had even googled quick techniques for dealing with panic: breathing properly and staying focused.
Focus. Focus.
But as soon as we walked into the lobby, my chest tightened, and my pulse roared in my ears.
My head and heart screamed that I wasn’t ready to see him again. If I lost control, I’d humiliate myself and ruin everything. Besides, he clearly didn’t care about me. Or worse, he acted as if I didn’t exist.
“Bib!” Andi’s voice behind me made me jump.
“Hah?! W-what?!” I stammered, spinning toward him.
He clutched his stomach, face twisted in pain. “You go ahead, I need the toilet.” His voice was strained, gasping.
My eyes went wide, and a sharp chill ran through my body. “What? A-ah… th-then I’ll come with you—”
“Are you fucking insane?!” he barked, face red. “I wanna throw away the only shit in my body!” He groaned, clutching his stomach tighter. “Give me some peace, will you?!”
Stammering, I flailed, “B-but—”
“Ugh, girl, for fuck’s sake.” He growled, backing away but still glaring at me. “Don’t you dare follow me to the toilet. If you do, I’ll scream so the whole office knows how freaky you are—ugh, see you later.” He jabbed a finger at me before dashing off.
“Andi—”
“Miss Sophia?”
The voice behind me forced me to a halt. I turned, and numbness washed over me.
Could a heart stop? It shouldn’t. And yet, a single violent beat thundered in my chest the moment my eyes met his sharp, dark-brown gaze.
Because the person standing there was him.
The tall figure. The beautiful, poisonous yet mesmerizing man who had once been my world by existing. Seeing his face up close, breathing in his scent, memories of us slammed back into me, replaying in my head, heating my chest.
Those dark brown eyes looked at me with sharp coldness. Foreign.
He was different. Older. Changed.
His skin, once pale, was now sun-kissed. He was taller, broader, ripped—easily six-foot-four? And his thick black waves were neatly trimmed.
The same man. But no longer the same.
His eyes were dark and scorching, burned into me like a white fire, until the pain turned tangible. I recoiled, stepping back. My body trembled, and heat ignited behind my eyes again.
He shook his head, breaking our eye contact with a heavy sigh. His gaze swept the surroundings, wary and deliberate, refusing to meet my gaze.
My chest crushed.
The kind, gentle, warm Zioh.
My hero.
Gone.
“Miss Sophia?”
The woman beside him jolted me back to reality. I blinked at her, finally noticing her. She was stunning—her pale skin, light-blonde hair, with light-gray eyes—foreign, radiant, elegant.
She gave me a warm smile. “Miss Sophia, right? I’m Natasha, Mr Zioh’s PA,” she said, extending her hand.
Natasha.
The girl who texted me on his phone last night.
Shaking her hand, I stammered. “I-I’m sorry. I-I mean, yes, yes, I’m Tshabina Sophia.”
I glanced at Zioh again. His face was still blank, scanning the lobby like I wasn’t even here.
“So, shall we begin the meeting?” Natasha’s voice snapped me back.
Wait. Meeting?
What did she mean by meeting?
I blinked and looked at her for a few seconds. I clearly remembered her message from last night. “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. I’m here only to represent our media division and introduce the content formats we usually create. Not for a meeting,” I replied, hesitating.
Her brows furrowed. “But aren’t you the co-responsible lead for the communications team in this project? Mr Aditya texted us this morning. You’ll be stepping in since he’ll often travel out of town. Isn’t that the procedure?”
“Ahh, yes—HAH?!”
What?!
Me? Responsible for the content team in this project? The project that involved Zioh and INDTV Group?
When? How? Who decided that—
Aditya.
That man, seriously.
I stood there gaping, dumbfounded, staring at Natasha with wide eyes. Then, a scoff broke the silence.
Glancing past Natasha, I found Zioh’s eyes already on me. His lips twitched into the faintest smile as he exhaled.
And everything inside me went blank and silent.
This was his first real reaction to me since we met again. Proof that I wasn’t invisible after all shook me to my core.
He walked ahead, leaving us behind. My gaze stayed glued to his back, my head spinning, my breath trapped in my throat. Then his deep voice reached me, low but clear enough to hear: “Nothing’s changed. At all.”
My heart dropped to my toes.
He remembered me.