Entangled in Lust

20. The Final Draft and The Unread Message

Two weeks changed everything. My thesis was done. And I realized the person I should have loved had been there the entire time.

"Done," Dave said. He hit the Enter key with dramatic flair, sending the final PDF file to my thesis advisor’s email. The laptop screen flashed a notification: Message Sent.

Silence settled over the coffee shop in Cikini, which was starting to empty out. The clock showed 11:00 PM. The barista in the corner was already cleaning the espresso machine.

"Done?" I asked, my voice filled with disbelief.

"Done, Cell," Dave closed my laptop gently. He took off his reading glasses and massaged the bridge of his sharp nose. He had faint dark circles under his eyes. Proof that he had stayed up all night with me for three days straight. "You just have to wait for the defense schedule. You did it."

I stared at the black laptop. It didn't feel real. Two weeks ago, I was on the verge of dropping out because Lucas called me worthless. But now, I had a future again. I had proven him wrong. I wasn't damaged goods. I was a scholar.

I smiled. A genuine smile, the first real one in a month. "I’m graduating, Dave!" I squealed, suppressing the volume since we were in public. "I’m actually going to graduate!"

"Yeah, you are," Dave smiled faintly, but his eyes were warm with pride. "I told you. You’re sharp. You just needed to remember who you are."

Impulsively, I stood up and leaned over the table, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Dave. Seriously, thank you so much. I don't know where I’d be without you."

Dave's body tensed for a split second. His hand came up slowly, patting my back gently. Twice. A polite gesture. Too polite. He pulled away first.

"Okay, no need to get sentimental," he said as he sat back down, pretending to busy himself with his charger cables. "You're heavy." I laughed, wiping the corners of my wet eyes. "You jerk."

"Let's celebrate," he said suddenly.

"Now? It's late, Dave. Don't you have work tomorrow? Or emails from your boss in Melbourne?"

"Work can wait. Your victory can't," he stood up, grabbing his car keys from the table. "Besides, I'm starving. I know a 24-hour dim sum place in Kemang that’s killer."

Jakarta at 11:30 PM is quiet. No horns. No motorcycles weaving through traffic. Just streetlights and soft jazz from Dave's speakers.

I rested my head against the window, watching the tall buildings rush by outside. The same buildings I used to watch when Lucas drove me in his roaring sports car. But it felt different. In Lucas's car, I always felt the need to be perfect. I had to sit up straight, check that my lipstick wasn't smudged, and laugh at his jokes even when they weren't funny. I was an accessory.

In Dave's car, I sat with my legs pulled up on the seat. He didn't mind if the upholstery got dirty. I wore no makeup and an oversized hoodie I borrowed from him. His AC was freezing. And I felt beautiful. I felt more valued like this than I ever did in the expensive dresses Lucas gave me.

"What are you thinking about?" Dave asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

I turned to him. The streetlights flickered across his face. "Just... comparing," I answered honestly.

Dave’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. "Comparing what?"

"This," I gestured to the space between us. "With him. I used to think love had to be explosive. Dramatic. If there weren't tears and screaming matches, it didn't feel passionate."

I paused, playing with the strings of the hoodie. "But now I realize, that wasn't love. That was trauma bonding. That was just adrenaline because I was terrified of being abandoned."

Dave stayed silent, letting me talk.

"I just realized that real love should be calm," I continued softly, daring to look at his side profile. "Like... coming home. You don't have to worry about the locks being changed. You don't have to be afraid of being kicked out because your family isn't 'perfect' enough."

The car stopped at the Mampang red light. Dave turned to look at me. His gaze was... sad? Why did he look sad when I was talking about feeling safe?

He looked like he wanted to say something. But then his phone vibrated loudly on the dashboard. The screen lit up. Mama.

Dave quickly grabbed his phone, disconnecting the Bluetooth instantly. He answered the call by holding it to his ear instead of using the car speaker like usual.

"Hello, Ma?" His voice turned stiff. Formal.

The light turned green. The car behind us honked. Dave stepped on the gas, steering with one hand.

"Yeah... yeah, Dave is still out... No, with an old friend... Yes, Dave remembers... I already checked the tickets... Yes, I'll sort out the paperwork the day after tomorrow... Send my regards to Papa... Yeah, tell—" He paused for a moment, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. Then he continued in a softer voice, "—tell her to be patient. Dave is coming home."

The silence in the car shifted. It felt suffocating now.

"Your mother?" I asked carefully. "Yeah."

"Misses you, huh? Why did she sound like she was collecting a debt?" I joked, trying to break the ice.

Dave didn't laugh. He focused on the straight road ahead. "You know how it is. Parents. They get fussy when their kid is far away."

"You said 'tell her'. Who's her? Your new girlfriend in Melbourne?" I baited him. I hoped he would say "no," or "it's my cat."

But Dave was silent. Long. Too long for a denial.

"No," he finally answered. His voice was flat. "My cousin. Asking for souvenirs."

Liar. I'd known Dave since we wore white-and-gray uniforms. I knew when he was lying. He taps his index finger against the steering wheel. And he was doing it right now. A cold feeling crept into my stomach. He was hiding something. Something big.

But I was a coward. I had just healed from one wound. I wasn't ready to pick at a new one. So I chose to believe his lie. I chose to close my eyes.

"Oh, a cousin," I said lightly, forcing a smile. "I wondered who it was."

The dim sum place was packed with South Jakarta kids hanging out late. Steam from the bamboo baskets filled the air. We sat at a metal table on the sidewalk. Dave ordered a feast: hakau, siomay, chicken feet, salted egg buns. He ate voraciously. Maybe he was eating to avoid talking.

"Slow down," I chided, pouring tea into his glass. "No one's gonna steal your siomay."

Dave swallowed his food, then looked at me. His eyes were back to "normal." The relaxed Dave. Dave, my best friend. "I'm starving, Cell. My brain is fried after correcting your thesis. Your discussion chapter was going in circles."

I chuckled. "Hey, it's done now. So your duty as an impromptu lecturer is finished, right?"

Dave stopped chewing. He placed his chopsticks down slowly. "Yeah," he murmured. "It's finished."

The words hung in the air. Your duty is finished. Did that mean... he was leaving again?

Courage bubbled up from somewhere. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was the sudden fear of loss attacking me again. I placed my hand over his hand resting on the table. His skin was warm. A contrast to my cold fingers.

"Dave," I said.

He looked at our touching hands, then up at my eyes. He didn't pull away.

"You... you're not going back to Melbourne immediately, right? I mean... now that my thesis is done?"

He swallowed hard. He looked like it hurt to answer. "I'm still here, Cell. Until..." he left the sentence hanging. "Until a few more weeks. My visa expires next month."

"Oh," I let out a sigh of relief. "That's a while. A month."

"Yeah. A month." He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It looked... painful.

"In that case," I tightened my grip on his hand. "Promise me. For this month, don't disappear again. I want to spend time with you. I want to pay back the three lost years."

I looked at him with hope. I want you, Dave. I want us to try.

Dave looked at me for a long time. His eyes looked torn. For a moment, I thought he would pull his hand away and say, "We're just friends, Cell." Or worse, he would tell the truth about that phone call.

Dave, being kind—or selfish—took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. Tight. As if he were holding onto a lifeline.

"Okay," he whispered hoarsely. "I promise. For this month... I'm yours."

My heart leaped. I'm yours. He said he was mine. I was too busy celebrating that small victory to notice his specific choice of words. Not later. Just this month.

Because Dave knew something I didn't. Our time was limited. Soon, reality—and his family—would pull him back.

"Deal," I said, smiling widely.

"Deal," Dave answered softly.

Under the table, his foot nudged mine. On the table, our hands were locked. That night, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. I didn’t know what was waiting for me at the end of the month.