Second Marriage

Chapter 2

Silence filled the observation room.

Only the machines hummed, the monitor beeped quietly, and Raka’s heavy breaths echoed as he refused to let go of Aruna’s hand. He sat there—still, anxious. My world, he thought, is on the edge of disappearing.

The door opened softly. A female doctor walked in with a nurse, carrying a stack of complete examination results.

“Mr. Raka,” the doctor said gently, “we need to inform you about the extended observations after the ER examination.”

Raka stood quickly, eyes filled with fear and hope all at once. “How is she? Will she wake up?”

“For now, Aruna is stable. But…”

The doctor hesitated, watching him carefully.

“From the laboratory results, we found that the patient is four weeks pregnant.”

Raka froze. The world stopped moving.

“Pregnant?” His voice barely escaped.

“Yes, Sir. The pregnancy is still very early, which is why it wasn’t detected before. Unfortunately, because of the impact and physical trauma from the accident, severe bleeding occurred and resulted in a miscarriage.”

The words hit him like a hammer. He could barely breathe.

“We’ve done everything we could, but the embryo couldn’t be saved.”

The doctor paused before adding softly, “She might not have known she was pregnant. So we leave it to you whether you want to tell her later or not.”

Raka lowered his head, feeling his strength leave him.

“She… she didn’t know?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

“And now… she lost our child…”

The nurse patted his shoulder lightly before leaving the room.

Raka sat again. His gaze dropped slowly to Aruna’s stomach.

That was where a small hope had grown quietly.

Without sound. Without signs.

And now… gone before they ever had the chance to pray for it.

His eyes burned. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, but that night, a single tear fell without asking permission.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.” His voice cracked painfully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you both…”

His trembling hand rested on Aruna’s now-empty belly.

“If I had known… I would’ve protected you better. I would’ve come home earlier. I wouldn’t have let you walk alone this evening.”

His breath shook. “I lost two people today. You… and someone I never even got to call my child.”

Outside, the rain kept falling.

The sky cried harder, as if it knew something inside someone’s chest had shattered.

And in that room, Raka made a silent vow—

When Aruna wakes up, he will start from the beginning.

He will love her as if it’s the first time.

He will make her fall in love with him again, even if she remembers nothing.

❤️❤️❤️

Time moved painfully slow inside the cold hospital room. The wall clock ticked faintly, as if mocking every passing second without good news. Aruna remained still. No sign of waking. And Raka was still there, sitting on the hard plastic chair that grew more uncomfortable every minute.

Aruna looked peaceful, as if in a deep sleep. But to Raka, that peace was terrifying. Each weak breath she took tightened his chest.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“I’ve been too busy,” he whispered to no one.

His hands rubbed his face harshly, frustration dripping from his movements.

“I worked too much… came home late, skipped dinners, even forgot to ask if you were tired.”

He took a long inhale.

“You waited for me at the dining table, didn’t you? You never got mad when I came home late. You smiled even when I forgot your birthday… or our anniversary.”

Raka let out a bitter laugh. The pain felt clearer now—when everything might already be too late.

“I thought… as long as I worked hard for our future, you would understand.”

He turned to Aruna, swollen eyes staring at her unmoving face.

“But what’s the point of a future if you’re not in it?”

A soft knock came from the door. It opened slowly.

“Raka…”

The voice belonged to a middle-aged woman in a cream hijab—Aruna’s mother. Behind her stood a man with graying hair—Aruna’s father. Their eyes were tired, worried.

“Mom… Dad…” Raka stood quickly, letting them in.

They went straight to Aruna’s bedside. Her mother grabbed her daughter’s hand, tears spilling instantly.

“Oh dear Aruna… sweetheart, please wake up. Mama’s here…”

Her father stayed silent, but his eyes held oceans.

“How is she, Ka?” he asked.

“Doctor said she’s stable but… still unconscious.”

Before Raka could continue, the door opened again. This time, his own parents entered. His mother was already crying, and his father patted Raka’s shoulder gently.

“We came as soon as we heard,” his mother said. “Son, you look like you haven’t slept.”

“I can’t, Mom,” Raka murmured.

The room grew full—of family, of prayers, of fears nobody dared voice. Even breathing felt heavy.

Aruna’s mother looked at Raka and whispered, “Ka, Aruna loves you. You know that, right?”

Raka nodded.

“Take care of her, Son. She never said much, but I know she always waited for you to come home.”

Raka lowered his eyes.

“When she wakes up, don’t let go of her again, okay?”

The words tightened his chest even more.

And for the first time since Aruna was brought to the hospital, he truly cried—

Not just from fear of losing her,

but from realizing how many precious moments he had let slip away.

❤️❤️❤️

The house door opened softly. The turning key sounded louder than usual. No one greeted him. No hurried footsteps on the stairs. No soft laughter from the kitchen.

Raka stepped inside, eyes scanning the silent living room. The couch where Aruna always waited was empty. The flowers in the vase were dry. Her favorite glass still sat on the shelf, as if holding her last touch.

The air felt heavier. Too quiet.

As if the house itself was grieving.

He climbed the stairs slowly. Every step reminded him of Aruna calling out playfully from upstairs whenever he came home late.

In their bedroom, he collapsed into the small sofa. Head back, eyes staring at the ceiling, a weight pressing on his chest.

He closed his eyes. Exhausted, but not from the body. This wasn’t lack of sleep. This was a wound—deep and hollow—caused by the absence of the woman who had always been there.

Minutes passed. Raka rose and entered the bathroom.

The sound of water hitting his skin became the only noise in the house. He stayed under the warm shower for a long time, hoping it could rinse away pain that refused to fade.

After showering, he stepped into the dressing room. He picked a dark suit, a navy tie, and his silver watch—things he usually wore only for important matters.

One glance in the mirror, then he left the house, started the car, and drove to the office.

The office building was as busy as ever. But to Raka, everything felt muted. He joined the meeting on the 16th floor, greeting coworkers politely before sitting at the corner seat.

The presentation started. Foreign investors questioned sharply. Divisional heads reported updates. The CEO glanced at Raka often, expecting sharp strategy from the man who always delivered.

Raka responded calmly to every question, but half his mind remained in the hospital room. Every time someone called his name, he had to force himself back.

“Raka,” Mr. Darto, the CEO, finally addressed him.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Our Kalimantan project is unstable. We need direct supervision. The latest report is concerning. We want you to leave… in two days at most. Three weeks.”

The room fell silent.

“If you need time to think, we can—”

“No need,” Raka cut softly. “I’ll go.”

Some exchanged glances, but no one argued. Raka was always the most reliable.

But this time, while everyone returned to their laptops and continued the meeting, only Raka

stopped writing. Only he sat still, staring ahead—his mind far away…

His heart already left behind in a hospital room,

waiting for a hand that still refused to squeeze back.