Chapter 32
Zioh
This Christmas and New Year’s holiday, I decided to spend it in my mother’s hometown, London. My mum grew up here until she met Dad and chose to follow him to Indonesia only a few months after Zeraiah was born.
Besides visiting Grandma and Grandpa, I also used this holiday to tour my dream university, Cambridge. Graduation was around the corner, and I wanted to experience the atmosphere firsthand, walk around the campus, gather information, and let the place fuel my motivation.
Yet, deep down, there was something I couldn’t deny. Despite my excitement and gratitude, a heaviness in my chest had been consuming me for years, and it was only growing worse. Moving to the UK meant leaving Sophie behind, and I wasn’t sure I could bear it.
The sight of Sophie’s sad face or how she would secretly cry whenever my study plans abroad were mentioned was enough to make me think again. But this plan wasn’t just for me; it was for her, too. I had vowed to become a person worthy of her.
I always tried to comfort her, to insist everything would be fine… But the truth was, the one who needed convincing was me.
I feared that once I moved here permanently, I would find myself flying back to Indonesia every single week.
The car I rode in began to pass rows of towering cypress trees, twenty to thirty meters high. We entered the Astor estate, my grandpa’s home, and my heart hammered in my chest. As we drove further for hundreds of meters, the gates of the mansion finally came into view as the trees gave way.
We circled along cobblestone paving, past manicured gardens and fountains, until we approached the grand entrance.
The house was built in the neoclassical style, with its wings extending gracefully outward.
White and beige, Grandma’s and Mum’s favourite palette.
I always loved the approach to the front lawns here, full of blossoms that gave a sense of serenity—especially the round, blooming pink carnations, which I adored for their sweetness, roundness, and beauty.
Like someone I knew.
The gardens were always immaculate and tended with heart because Grandpa, Grandma and Mum adored plants and flowers.
Ethan and Morag Astor, our Grandparents.
Dad often reminded me: Mum’s life had been one of certainty, promise, and abundance—gold and diamonds at every turn.
Grandpa was a real estate mogul and heir to The Apex Astor Collection, which my great-grandfather had passed down to him.
Meanwhile, Grandma owned Caldwell Sterling Gallery, which specialises in antiques and rarities.
And Mum, she was a bespoke luxury designer.
Her world was filled with aristocrats, celebrities, and the upper echelons.
Their businesses, foundations, and commitments made Grandpa and Grandma a whirlwind pair, forever busy and rarely home. Still, somehow, their bodies remained resilient, like fighters.
I beamed, my heart pounding harder as the car glided toward the front doors. As we drew closer, another car was already parked in the courtyard.
They were already here!
When our car halted, I rushed out, striding towards the entrance. Several large suitcases were piled at the door, and staff hurried to carry them in. And there was a girl in a pastel pink coat, hugging my mother. So sweet, so utterly adorable.
“Sophie!” I called out.
She turned, her radiant and beautiful face lighting up. Her smile alone was enough to warm my chest, like she spun from sunlight. God, I missed her; a week without her felt unbearable.
The moment Sophie spotted me, she cried out and bolted forward. I caught her in my arms and clutched her so tight to relieve my tormenting longing. Her sweet vanilla scent filled my senses again, sparking fireworks inside me.
Could I keep her like this forever?
I eased her down so I could look at her bright smile, her dimples, and her chubby cheeks. My hand brushed her face, returning her tender smile. Her presence here was no coincidence.
I promised Sophie that I would bring her to see her first snow. I would make her set foot here, in the UK. Making her touch the snow, and to do it together.
I wanted to show her that when it came to her, I never spoke empty words.
It hadn’t been easy, but I was happy with every step I took to make it happen because she deserved it.
I had saved every penny from competition prizes and freelance jobs for years.
Mum helped sort their visas, too. Though, of course, Grandma, Grandpa, and Mum wouldn’t stop fussing.
They wanted Sophie and Tsabinu to fly here on the family’s private jet, or pampered this way or that way.
But no.
This was my thing with Sophie. Our thing.
With my own hands, I would always fulfil my promise to her.
There was so much I wanted, could, and would do for her.
She deserved my effort.
Only her.
“Thank you, Zi…” she whispered as I hugged her again. God, she looked beautiful, wrapped in the thick pink coat, something she’d never wear in Indonesia.
Her smile, her sparkling eyes, those alone were worth every sacrifice. I only wanted to give her more, to see those cheeks bloom again and again.
I tightened my embrace, her chin resting against my chest. Softly, I told her, “Welcome to London, Sophie.”
I hoped she would ask me for more, because I’d give her everything. I wished she wouldn’t ask me for easy things, because she was worth the fight. She deserved to make me try hard.
So when I knelt on one knee before her, I would know I was worthy.
Suddenly, a loud shriek echoed from inside the house. It seemed my brother had finally woken from his long sleep. And sure enough, still in his dark blue pyjamas, hair all messy, he burst out through the main doors.
“Bibaaaa!!” he yelled, running straight towards us.
Instantly, he grabbed Sophie’s arm, pulling her back and breaking our embrace. “Okay, my turn,” he declared, snatching her away without hesitation. He hugged her just as tightly, leaving me to exhale and try to calm the annoyance inside.
He always did this.
But this time, he was genuinely happy.
Zeraiah rocked Sophie’s body in his arms, both squealing with laughter.
“Finally! I wanna show you everything in here!” he exclaimed with bright enthusiasm, then released her enough to shake her shoulders.
His grin turned mischievous. “We will have so much fun here, something we’ll never forget! I already made a list!”
“I already made a list too!” Sophie shot back, louder.
Zeraiah kept rambling, and Sophie replied with equal seriousness. I could only stare at the sight. Then I realised something was missing. My eyes searched until the person I was waiting for emerged from the main doors, his arms full of packages—clearly gifts.
I knew at once what Tsabinu carried: dishes his mother had prepared. For days, Sophie talked about how she and her mum had cooked lots of Indonesian food to bring here.
Tsabinu walked up to us, offering me a small smile. “Thanks, Zi,” he said, nodding.
I offered a faint smile in return. “Don’t mention it, Golden. Just—” I glanced towards Sophie and Zeraiah, who were still chattering away. “It’s good to have you here,” I added.
Tsabinu only gave a soft snort, and our reunion was interrupted when Mum stepped out through the main doors, calling warmly, “Hey… I don’t want to ruin the reunion, but shall we eat, darlings? Biba and Bibu brought so much food with them.”
Her eyes swept over each of us before settling on Sophie and Tsabinu. “My lovely twins, please tell your mum thank you from me. She knew I’d been craving rendang.”
She offered Sophie and Tsabinu her loveliest smile before wrapping her arm around Tsabinu and turning to the rest of us. “Come on, my loves, let’s go inside for a meal,” she coaxed, leading him in. Then she reached for Sophie, silencing Zeraiah’s endless chatter.
“Grandpa and Grandma will be back soon,” she added, eyes sparkling, “and they’re dying to meet Biba and Bibu.”
Just like that, she whisked Sophie and Tsabinu away, leaving Zeraiah and me exchanging looks, both of us sighing at the loss. Eventually, we followed them in.
It seemed Sophie was never meant to be mine alone.