Chapter 38
Tshabina
My chest pounded out of control.
It was already seven in the evening, which meant that in one more hour, Zioh would come to pick me up.
Pacing back and forth, I kept glancing at the wall clock, praying it would either stop or move faster. I didn’t know.
Forcing myself upright on the bed, I chewed my nails as if they were gum.
Zioh and I… What path were we even walking?
Were we walking at all?
Had we started again?
I had no idea…
Everything felt so gray.
“What should I do, Zioh?” I whispered.
I sighed and slipped off the bed, walking toward the window and pulling the curtain aside. I checked to see if my twin had returned.
Tsabinu had told me earlier that he’d be home late, which, in his language, meant after midnight.
Perfect. That meant I could slip out when Zioh came—
Tin Tin!
The blaring of a car horn stopped me. I darted back to the curtain, pulling it wide open, and my stomach dropped.
It was Tsabinu’s car!
What? He’d said late. Why was he back now?
My hands went cold. How was I supposed to leave now? What if Zioh arrived? What could I possibly say to Tsabinu? My heart slammed in my chest as I ran a hand through my hair.
I’m staying over at Zioh’s… to record—
What a disaster.
If Tsabinu ever found out…
The thought alone suffocated me. Because no matter how little he said it out loud, I knew he wanted me away from the Danudara family. Away from their shadows. If he learned the truth that, after everything, I was crawling back to Zioh—
Would he feel betrayed?
Or worse… disappointed?
The last thing I wanted to do was to make him feel let down. I didn’t dare tell him, mainly because my relationship with Zioh was still so gray after all this time.
I stood on a thin rope that could snap and break at any moment. Yet, I insisted on staying there, balancing, and walking forward, because…
I couldn’t ignore Zioh. I just… couldn’t.
There was something vast and dark in him—a weight pulling him slowly under. Something was drowning him, and I couldn’t walk away. I was going to hear it from Zioh, so that I could finally escape the darkness that had swallowed me for ten years.
My brother was my life, but I couldn’t deny that the life we had in the past was… better.
And I wanted to know what stole that life away from me.
I turned off my bedroom light and pressed my ear against the door. The footsteps were coming upstairs. Then they suddenly stopped; in that moment, I knew my brother was looking toward my room. I held my breath, praying, “Please go to your room. Please.”
Silence.
Then, at last, there was a sound of his door closing.
“Thank God,” I whispered, exhaling in relief.
Quickly, I shrugged into my denim jacket, grabbed my bags, and pulled out my phone.
Tshabina: Zioh, let’s meet at the cafe near my complex. I’ll share the location.
Tiptoeing through the hallway, I peered downstairs. The kitchen lights were still on—our maid wasn’t asleep yet. Good. That meant the gate wasn’t locked.
I crept past Tsabinu’s room, the faint sound of running water drifted from his shower, along with... a voice. A woman’s voice?
I frowned. “Seriously, Mas? You’re so busy that you even take calls while showering?” I muttered at his door.
Shaking my head, I hurried downstairs, slipped out the gate, and sent one last text—this time for Tsabinu.
Tshabina: Mas, sudden overtime. I’m heading to the office and don’t want to disturb you while you’re in the shower. Don’t look for me, I’ll be back tomorrow.
Tin!
“Akh!”
I yelped as a black Mercedes screeched to a stop before me. My phone slipped from my hand, skidding across the asphalt. “Aw…” I hissed, crouching down, rubbing my palm where it had scraped the ground.
Before I could straighten, a voice tore through the air. “Tshabina?”
I held my breath and looked up.
Zioh.
He was already kneeling in front of me, his face pale and his hand steadying my shoulder. “What are you doing here?” he asked, gripping my hand and pulling me to my feet. “Are you okay?” His eyes scanned me from head to toe, sharp and searching.
I brushed off my palm and nodded. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I texted you.” I bent down to take my phone, but he reached it first and picked it up for me. “We were supposed to meet at the cafe.” I glanced back toward my house gate.
He frowned. “I don’t check my phone when I’m driving.”
We stood there in silence until he slowly reached out and took my bags from me.
I found myself looking at him. He looked devastatingly handsome, dressed in a black knit shirt and white pants, every ounce of elegance set on his frame.
My heart hammered harder, my cheeks burning, and I glanced at my phone.
“It’s only 7:45. We still have fifteen minutes,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.
“This is Jakarta,” he said. “Traffic. I left an hour ago to make sure I arrived on time.”
Then his gaze sharpened, piercing me. “You still haven’t answered me. What are you doing here?” he pressed. “You look like you’ve run away from something.”
Cold prickled my skin. “I told you, we were supposed to meet at the cafe—”
“Why?” His tone cut deeper, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at my gate. “That’s your house. Why at the cafe?”
“I—” I faltered. “There’s Mas Bibu in there—”
“So?” His voice dropped. His brow arched. “What does it matter if he’s there?”
My throat closed up. “Just… so we wouldn’t be disturbed. He just got home.”
His stare grew colder, freezing me where I stood.
Had I… triggered his dominant black phase?
Then, he spoke, cold and deep. “Don’t tell me you’re trembling like a scared rabbit because you don’t want Tsabinu to know you’re coming to my place?”
Busted.
I froze. My mouth opened, but before I could speak, his hand seized mine.
“Come.” He held my hand, guiding me toward the gate.
“Wait! Zi!” I yanked back with all my strength.
He stopped, his eyes blazing down at me. “Don’t,” I begged, shaking my head, my breath coming fast. “He’s exhausted, Zi. He’s been buried in work, and he might already be asleep.” I sputtered. “Please, d-don’t. I texted him earlier anyway.”
He stared at me for a long, piercing moment. His eyes were shaking and burning.
Then, at last, he let go.
Without a word, he turned, walked back to the car, and got in. I swallowed hard, following, but I knew I’d just awakened something I’d been avoiding these past weeks.
The silence inside the car made the air thick. His jaw tightened, and his grip was white-knuckled on the wheel.
The black phase of him was here again.
My heart slammed so hard it hurt.
The rest of the drive blurred. He said nothing, neither did I; the only sound was the city traffic outside. His chest rose and fell with a fast motion, and his eyes locked on the road.
Zioh clearly struggled to control his emotions since returning to Indonesia. Sometimes, he was gentle, calm, peaceful, even joyful. But when his phase shifted, he no longer felt like himself, at least not the Zioh I had known.
He became like a blade that didn’t hesitate to strike, or a machine built to cause pain.
And…
He seemed most prone to becoming like that when he was with me…
It forced me to tighten my grip on my emotions and sharpen my senses because I never knew when he would strike.
It felt as if I were living in a permanent state of red alert, on guard, wearing bulletproof armor.
And I shouldn’t have felt this way next to my hero.
I rubbed my arms over and over as the cold air from the air conditioner seeped through my jacket.
Zioh reached forward and turned up the temperature. I bit the inside of my cheek, and I wanted to thank him, to speak, but fear kept me silent.
Then, my thoughts were pulled away by the sound that filled the car.
Music.
The speakers were filled with the sound of “Strong” by One Direction. The song’s sound awakened something inside me, making me hold my breath, sending a stinging bloom behind my eyes. This song—we used to sing it together.
Slowly, he reached across, his fingers brushing my cheek. His touch was soft and tender, but his eyes trembled when they met mine. For a moment, his gaze dropped, tracing down and lingering. Then he shook his head with a quick movement, and pulling his hand away.
I let out a quiet sigh, fighting the wave of heat and longing inside me. I tried smiling to myself, letting the music wash over me.
Now he was gray, dominated by white—
“Am I your little secret now?” His sharp, low voice greeted me, dragging me back.
My head snapped toward him. His eyes were cold again, burning into me. “Secret?” I whispered. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t want Tsabinu to know.” He glanced at me, then back to the road. His breath grew heavier.
Zioh… you are like a book I can’t read.
“I don’t understand, Zi,” I said, still looking at him. “What should Mas Bibu know? He already knows you’re my boss now.”
The car stopped at a red light, and his head whipped toward me. His jaw was tight, and his brows furrowed. He looked furious, deeply offended.
A heavy breath left him. He shook his head and shut his eyes for a second.
And then—silence.
The rest of the drive to his penthouse passed without a single word.
? ── * ── ?
He strode upstairs ahead of me, quick and distant. At the landing, he spoke without looking back. “Give me ten minutes, I want to shower.” The bedroom door shut behind him, leaving me stopped at the top of the stairs. I lingered on the fading traces of his presence, breathing out in a tremble.
My body was heavy, and my thoughts wandered back and forth. What was happening to us? I honestly didn’t understand and didn’t know what to do.
After a few minutes, my gaze drifted to the first hallway on this floor, and then I remembered—the painting. That night, when I first came here, I saw it in the hallway: a frame lying against the wall, turned to face the corner.
Now, I was compelled to see it. I needed something—anything. So, slowly, I moved. Step by step, I approached it.