Chapter 25
Tshabina
I wiped my tears over and over, but they wouldn’t stop coming. Everything Zioh said and did kept running through my mind, echoing louder with every step I took.
My old wounds hadn’t even healed, and now he drove another blade into them, twisting, pressing.
How was this all my fault?!
What did he mean?
For years, while he abandoned me, I waited. I kept checking my phone, longing for his name to appear, bringing an explanation… or at the very least, an apology. I waited in the dark for my Zioh to come back.
But he was angry, and I never even knew why. He changed, and I never understood how.
I didn’t know what I’d done.
“It’s all your fault.”
“You don’t deserve to cry.”
Finally, a hint of simmering hatred toward him surfaced. But I hated myself more for being so pathetic. How weak, how wretched.
When the taxi had stopped, my mind went to one place: where my mother lay.
When I was little and hurting, I’d run to her arms. Now all I could do was hold her gravestone, trace the earth above her with my trembling hands as my tears fell onto it.
“You know, whenever I missed Mom, I just had to look at you.” A familiar voice reached me, gentle and soft. “You’re so much like her, and it feels enough.” I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
I couldn‘t bring myself to hide.
So I cried harder.
A hand brushed my back, and Tsabinu sank to the ground beside me. “Don’t leave me like that,” he murmured, pulling me into his arms. “I was worried, Dek.”
His embrace tightened as he drew me against his shoulder. I wept into him, my shoulders shaking. “Because of what happened in the car?” he asked, his tone warm and careful. “Or because you miss Mom?”
Everything, Mas. All of it. And more.
I stayed silent, burying my soaked face deeper into his shoulder. With his chin resting atop my head and his arms wrapped tight, he patted my back with a tenderness that slowly eased the storm inside me. “Your eyes are swollen. How long have you been crying?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
We stayed like that until I finally managed to choke out a question. “D-do you remember when we were s-sad, Mom would always h-hold us?”
Tsabinu nodded. “Yes,” he whispered with a trembling voice as he pressed me closer. “And now I’ll take that part.”
Shutting my eyes, I inhaled deeply against his shoulder.
Please don’t throw me away.
Pain-eyed, I gazed back at our mother’s gravestone, wiping my face. “Mas…”
“Hm?”
I closed my eyes, letting the last of my tears spill. “Doesn’t it break you that our friendship with Zioh and Zeraiah is ruined?” We were silent for a moment before Tsabinu tightened his arms around me.
“Yes,” he answered.
“But?” I pressed, my eyes opened again, fixed on the gravestone.
After a long, hoarse silence, he finally spoke. “But I let it go.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have the time to keep holding onto it.
My time, my energy… they’re limited.” He rubbed his chin against the top of my head.
“If Zioh and Zeraiah chose to forget us and walk away, that’s their decision.
I understand that’s beyond my control.” His voice lowered. “All I can do is let it pass.”
We sat in silence for a while before he added. “But I know how much they loved us. Back then, we all loved each other.” He kissed the top of my head. “That wasn’t a lie. It was real.”
He drew a heavy breath before he went on. “Maybe when we grew up, things happened we couldn’t understand, and everything changed.” He pulled away and stared straight into my eyes. “But it wasn’t our fault.” He gripped my shoulders. “Especially not yours.”
More tears slipped down, and I choked on my sobs.
His voice was firm. “Sometimes it’s just part of growing up.” A tremor ran through his voice as his grip tightened. “If I have to let go of everything else, I’ll try to accept that.” He shook his head. “But not you or Dad. Never again, Dek.”
He wiped away my tears. “So promise me. If something happens, if you’re hurt, if anyone makes you suffer, you’ll tell me. Alright?”
Throwing my arms around him, I clung to my twin. My heart spoke through the hug I held him, as much as he held me.
We had each other.
? ── * ── ?
After that day, life still forced me to wake up and go to work. It had been over a week since, and I hadn’t seen Zioh again. He hadn’t shown up at the office or called me to continue documenting the project draft. Nothing.
At first, I tried to let it slide. But the thought wouldn’t leave me, so I finally contacted Natasha the day before. After all, this position was entrusted to me and was my responsibility.
When Natasha had picked up, she’d confirmed that Zioh had taken some time off. He was working on another project draft, apparently juggling other jobs, and she was surprised I hadn’t been informed.
Yes, so was I.
I tried not to dwell on it; he was busy, as always. That was what I forced myself to think, though deep down, I knew something wasn’t right.
Traitor.
Even after everything, no matter how much I tried to fight it, or ignore it… my heart still held space, waiting for an instruction, a piece of work, anything from him.
The memory of his face, red with anger and with tears burned in his eyes, clung to me. Stuck enough to trap me in this endless cycle of hurt.
And to make matters worse, for the past week, Andi had been sticking to me like glue. Always pressing me about what had happened on my so-called date and asking why the young doctor no longer wanted to see me.
I stayed silent every time, and for the love of God, I wanted peace—a little time to reclaim my sanity.
But of course, Andi wouldn’t allow that.
So in the end, this weekend, he dragged me out. I said yes on one condition: We’d go ice skating at a mall, and he agreed.
I loved this sport. It was one of my favorites after biking. It had always felt beautiful to me because of someone who had made it that way, and now that someone seemed intent on doing the opposite.
So today, I wanted to enjoy it one last time.
Before I’d have to let it go, same as everything else.
“Biba!” Andi’s voice rang behind me as I glided further across the ice. “I’m done! I think I’m going to die, it’s been two hours, bitch!” he groaned, breathless.
I’d booked unlimited tickets for a reason; now, I couldn’t stop. Not when I knew I’d soon have to give this up, too. I glanced back at him. “Go ahead! I’m not done yet.” I swallowed. “I need to make the most of it.” My voice was firm, heavy with meaning. “This is the last time.”
Andi frowned. “Hah?”
I raised my voice as I skated further away. “The plan to forget Zioh! This one needs to be trashed, too.”
Andi halted, staring at me from across the rink, at a loss for words.
Half an hour later, I finally joined him outside the arena. I was still in my skates, shuffling slowly to where he sat, massaging his legs. His eyes tracked me as I approached, and he shook his head in disbelief before handing me a cup of hot chocolate.
Staring at it for a second, I took the cup and sipped as I sat beside him. We were lost in thought until Andi broke it, his eyes fixed on his phone. “Holy shit, your brother is so fucking cool,” he muttered, shoving the screen in front of me.
A headline blazed across it.
INDTV wins again: actress’s mother’s lawsuit against Bakti dismissed. The legal team is praised for yet another victory.
“Their legal team’s brilliant,” he added, shaking his head.
I said nothing, just turned away, watching the laughter of strangers skating before me. But of course, Andi couldn’t keep quiet for long.
“That old man Bakti, honestly, that man’s weird, isn’t he?” he continued, half-singing his gossip. “Alright, maybe he’s needy or lusty, but why on earth would it have to be with an actress that fucking young?”
I sighed.
His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
“And his shit pattern, Bib. Think about it. Young women. Pretty. Long hair, kind of Javanese-looking. Always the same type.” He leaned his body closer, and his tone became serious.
“He’s been doing this for years. Odd, right?
Especially since his ex-wife’s a British goddess. Fetish shift, maybe?”
“Andi.” My voice cut hard, without me even looking at him.
He stopped and rubbed his jaw. “Fine, fine.” He glanced at me sidelong. “I’m worried you’re starting to look more and more like Bibu,” he clicked his tongue. “I know you two are twins, but please don’t be like your male clone—”
I turned to him, giving him my weary face, and he shut his mouth. He even dragged a finger across his lips in mock silence. Ugh... this man, really.
We sat in silence again until he fidgeted beside me, pressing a hand to his stomach. “This shit. Not fucking now,” he groaned, pale. His eyes darted to me, and I knew exactly what that meant.
“I’m going to the bathroom!” he yelped, stumbling up and vanishing before I could react. He rushed off—and then, my gaze collided with someone else’s.
He stared right back at me.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My fingers dug into the seat as he walked closer, his gaze never leaving mine. Step by step, until he stood right before me.
“Can I sit?” Zeraiah asked.