Chapter 12
Tshabina
With hurried steps, I flung open my bedroom door and bolted for the stairs. My heart raced, my palms were sweating as I clutched Andi’s iPad. What the hell was this? No wonder…
I took the stairs two at a time, only to halt mid-stride—Tsabinu was coming up. He was dressed in a crisp, neat suit, and his tired posture in it made my chest ache for him. On a damn Sunday, of all days?
I stopped mid-step and would have toppled backwards if he hadn’t caught my arm.
His brows furrowed in surprise, and he looked at me with his wide-open eyes.
But before he could scold me, I shoved the still-glowing iPad in his face, making him squint.
“Mas!” I pointed at the headline blazing on the screen with my trembling finger. “Mas, is this real?”
He narrowed his eyes, pushing my hand back to remove the device from his face.
Blinking several times, he removed his glasses, clearly dazzled by the screen’s glare.
His astigmatism always made bright lights a nuisance.
With a sigh, he replaced his glasses. Once he could see properly, his face hardened, a coldness seeping into his gaze.
Oh. I had forgotten that I looked like a total zombie!
He stared at me, steady, and finally spoke. “Dek? What’s wrong?” His voice was low, one of his hands brushing beneath my eye. I didn’t know what to say, and my chest thudded even harder.
Tsabinu couldn’t find out what happened…
Think… think…
Swallowing hard, I forced a casual expression. “Sad movies?” What a pathetic excuse. And of course, he didn’t buy it. His gaze grew colder, pinning me in place. Still, I forced myself to meet his gaze, to act normal. Twin things, damn twin telepathy—please don’t work now!
He watched in silence for a long while before speaking again. “Andi? I called him earlier. Why was he so furious?”
Of course. The timing couldn’t be worse.
Andi, please, don’t say anything.
I swallowed hard. I was useless at lying; even the pulse in my neck betrayed me.
Oh God, please—I shrugged. “Same old. He sulked because I refused to watch what he wanted. Said I broke a promise or something.” I wanted to grimace.
What? Sulking over films? What are you, Tshabina—thirteen? ! We were twenty-seven!
My legs fidgeted, and my heart skipped a beat as Tsabinu watched me, his eyes unwavering. Sweat trickling down my neck. His eyes pierced me, making me want to cry.
I’m so sorry, Tsabinu…
At last, his shoulders loosened, and he exhaled, a thin breath escaping him. “Alright… if you don’t want to talk yet, that’s fine.” His gaze gentled, and his hand squeezed my shoulder. “But I just want you to know I’m here, always, Dek.”
My eyes stung. He clearly knew I was lying, yet he gave me space. That was more than enough, and I couldn’t imagine life without him.
Clearing my throat and nodding, I snapped back to reality, remembering the urgency that had sent me running in the first place. I pointed back to the iPad. “Mas, is this real?”
He looked long at it, then nodded with a weary sigh. “Yes. That’s why I just came back, I met with people from the office and had meetings.”
I swallowed, and the iPad in my hand dipped when my mind scattered. I looked at my brother again. “So, what now? Have you heard from Zaeem? The office must be in chaos. And their situation… Mas Zaeem, Zeraiah, Zioh… Have you heard anything from them?”
Tsabinu shifted his eyes from the iPad to me, his gaze heavy again. “Don’t overthink it, Dek. Just focus on your office work.” His tone was soft, but firm. “Your team’s struggling too because of this.”
“I know.” My nod was weak. “But I… I’m worried, Mas.” The admission slipped out in a small voice.
He nodded as well. “I understand. But don’t overthink, alright? Focus on your tasks. Tomorrow I’ll even come to your office for a meeting.” His hand ruffled my hair. “I’ll go shower now.” With that, he ascended the stairs to his room.
I let out a weak breath, trying to steady myself. Why did it have to be like this? This news made my chest constrict even tighter because it explained everything.
Explained why Zioh had been so broken that day.
These traitorous tears fell again. And I stared down at the iPad, my lips trembling as I traced the lines with my eyes:
Bakti Danudara, Chairman of INDTV Group, was spotted in an intimate encounter with a young actress at the Claid Hotel last Friday afternoon.
I could only pray that Zioh, Zeraiah, and Zaeem would find a way through…
? ── * ── ?
Today was exactly as I feared: chaos. Several divisions, including ours, held sudden meetings about Uncle Bakti’s issue. I even heard Artamain and INDTV themselves had emergency meetings.
As the team responsible for social media, coverage, and all content, our task was singular: divert the issue from the spotlight and prevent it from affecting the upcoming press conference. The launch of our joint subsidiary with INDTV was imminent, and then this happened.
I finally saw why influential people had to guard their names. Their actions rippled not only upon themselves but upon everyone under their shadow. I still didn’t understand how Uncle Bakti could do this again.
I had expected him to stop, but he kept going. Yet worse than ever, and with someone so young, sparking a scandal…
Andi’s words flashed through my mind. He’d once claimed via his gossip accounts that Uncle Bakti had deviant fetishes, and I’d shut him down immediately.
I couldn’t engage in such talk because Uncle Bakti had been kind and caring to my brother and me, like a second father.
And he was Zioh and Zeraiah’s dad after all.
By the way, Andi and I reconciled. When I returned his iPad, he treated me to an orange Americano. Though still furious with me, he admitted he felt “settled” now, but I didn’t understand what it meant—I had no desire to unravel it either.
The important thing was that he was trying to move on. Even though he wouldn’t stop warning me to stay away from Zioh.
If only Andi knew that, beyond work, I wanted nothing to do with Zioh.
Not out of hatred, though—it should have been that way a long time ago.
Now, my body felt weighed down, as if a massive rock had crushed me, leaving me with no strength left to resist. The pain spread through every inch of me, and the cruelest part was knowing I couldn’t heal it with Betadine because there was no blood to be found.
Keeping my distance truly was for the best.
Above it all, guilt. For years, even after we reunited after a decade, I had assumed Zioh was fine—more than fine, even perfect—that his life in the UK was flawless and happy.
Then what I saw that day, and this news now, struck me hard. I was all wrong.
A sudden knock tore me from my long thoughts. Even Aditya, speaking beside me, fell silent. Every gaze in the room turned to the open door. I didn’t know how long I’d been frozen, but there she was, a blonde woman stepping in, followed by a man behind her.
And somehow, his eyes found mine.
As if he’d come here only to see me.
Our eyes met. That sensation returned, the same as when I’d first looked into his eyes after a long year.
My heartbeat quickened, breath catching in my throat.
The inner turmoil fused again, and looking at him hurt. After what happened days ago, those deep brown eyes pulled me back into his darkness. My eyes stung, and every unpleasant feeling stripped me bare.
I couldn’t even tell which emotion dominated, but one thing was clear. I was in pain.
That pain gave me the strength to break the gaze, stiffly turning away to Aditya, who stood beside me, blocking the massive projector. But I could feel it. Heavy steps approaching. My breath shortened, and I bit the inside of my lip—
I turned, stiff and slow. He was there. Eyes locked on mine as he took his seat directly across from me.
A low growl escaped Andi beside me, and as I turned, a fragile smile tugged at my lips when Tsabinu was there, too. He gave me a small, steady smile, and I nodded at him, pretending to be normal. But nothing within me felt that way—not my mind, my heart, my body, my logic. Nothing.
Then the blonde woman, Natasha, stood and introduced herself. Her eyes flicked toward Andi, widening when she saw him. Meanwhile, Andi’s glare stayed locked on Zioh, though ignored because Zioh’s gaze remained fixed… on me.
Natasha’s voice blurred into Tsabinu’s, perhaps explaining steps, directions, or legal codes. His voice filled the room, but drifted to me, thin and distant. Everything blurred as something sharp and burning pierced me, striking from across the distance.
I looked up again, and our eyes collided.
Zioh hadn’t looked away.
What was this look? Sharpness? Hatred? Anger? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know—
It trembled…
Not just his gaze but his whole body. A faint tremor ran through him. His fist clenched hard on the table, and he pressed his AirPods, whispering something, but his eyes never left mine.
The longer I held it, the walls I’d built inside myself gave in, leaving me lost within his depths. My heart refused to calm, and with effort and stiffness, I tore myself away, forcing focus on Aditya’s voice again.
Focus, Tshabina. Focus.
I tried, I really did, but his eyes cut through me, beneath my skin, exposing me.
“As we know, next week’s press conference between INDTV Group and PT Artamain will officially be held. However, yesterday’s issues with INDTV may affect—” I needed to focus. But Aditya’s words slipped past, fading away...
Forcing down the lump in my throat, I looked again. He was still watching me—his gaze deeper, warmer. I held it for a moment too long, searching for the real him.
Which one was the real Zioh? He was like a puzzle I couldn’t solve.
How many pieces had I gathered to understand him? And how, when he never gave them? Or worse. When he burned the pieces, he scattered them so I could never find them.
He was so gray.
But perhaps it didn’t matter now, because it was all over.
I held my breath.
My body tightened when my leg beneath the table met the hard touch of leather from across me.
My eyes flew open, wider, locking onto Zioh’s gaze, one that didn’t seem to leave me even for a second.
I jerked my leg back, but every retreat was answered by his leg moving closer, until our shoes brushed against each other.
That small contact sent electricity through my body, thickening and quickening my pulse.
“Tshabina?” Aditya’s call jolted me back.
I blinked at him, then around. Every pair of eyes in the room settled on me.
Even Andi’s face asked what was wrong. Crap, I’d missed his question.
Flustered, I looked at him again, and he studied me, then spoke.
“Would you share the idea you told me last night? It was good.”
His words made every eye turn to me. My harsh breath worsened, and my heart pounded faster under their judging stares. Aditya had indeed called me last night, and we’d discussed strategies. But—
Of course. No one else knew about my new position. Not even Andi—
Stay calm—I couldn’t. Their eyes burned into me, and my pulse raced with sickness and nausea. Sweat chilled my skin. What should I do—
“What you suggested last night was good, Miss Tshabina.” My mind stalled, stunned.
I must have misheard, but the voice spoke again.
“Your idea for social media games and giveaways was solid, distracting public focus. And your suggestion to showcase Artamain’s community events was strong too.
Good work, Tshabina.” His voice was calm and soft. Steadying.
Zioh.
My heart nearly burst. A shiver of warmth spread through my veins, and my eyes blurred, weakened by what he did.
He was lying. He hadn’t spoken to me last night; even Aditya’s shocked face proved it.
But the others shifted, reassured, returning to normal. Because Zioh’s presence carried weight and pressure, no one dared cross. Their glances at him flicked away quickly.
This situation made me realize how weak I was and was always too guided by feeling. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop it.
Because when my eyes met his dark brown eyes again, warmth rushed through my heart. Calming the nausea, the chaos, and replacing it with sorrow and longing.
And memories. I remembered, back then, Zioh always defended me.
He even fought a senior classmate on my behalf.
I’d never told anyone how one of my upperclassmen had stolen my bag and hidden it in the storage room for weeks.
One day, while walking with Zioh, I was startled to catch sight of him playing basketball.
I didn’t flinch and only stared at him for a few seconds, and suddenly, a fight broke out because Zioh went straight for him, his fists flying.
So, if anyone asked, even if Andi raged, why couldn’t I let go so easily? It would take thirteen years to explain and thirteen years for them to walk in my shoes.
Our eyes melted together again until Aditya’s voice broke it. “You’re available, right, Tshabina?”
I frowned. Available? For what?
“You can accompany Mr. Zioh Danudara to finalise the content brief for next week’s speech, right? The points you told me last night, share them with him. I’ll be traveling again, so I’ll entrust it to you as deputy head of media communication for this project.”
I stared around, unable to move.
Eyes turned on me, skeptical and curious. Even Andi gaped, mouthing, “What the fuck?!”
A biting cold climbed rapidly through my body, spreading everywhere and dragging the nausea back with it, especially at the sight of my colleagues’ sneers.
Idiot. I should’ve known. Aditya hadn’t told anyone he’d given me this position. Not a single soul.
My oxygen dwindled, my breath caught and jagged.
I had to speak. I had to explain. But—
“It was Mr Bakti Danudara who recommended her directly.” Again, Zioh intervened—calm, deep, and firm.
Every eye turned to him now. “He reviewed the team profiles for this project and was impressed by Tshabina’s record here.
So, you prove it to me, right, Miss Tshabina?
” His voice cut through as he stood tall, looming above me.
Forcing me to look up into those obsidian eyes; they were so dark and consuming.
And strangely, I was calm again. My breath returned. I was safe.
Safe, just like Sophie felt ten years ago, believing nothing bad could touch me while he was here.
Like a hero. Only for me.
At last, after so long a silence, he smiled. Faint, but real. “We can discuss the press conference brief privately and let the team rest for lunch. So, shall we, Tshabina?”