Entangled in Lust

9. Divorce in the Middle of Stunned Silence

That rainy afternoon felt like the sky itself was delivering the bad news that had been hanging heavy in the air for days. In the small apartment I now shared with my father, the smell of black coffee mixed with a thick silence. I hadn’t set foot in school for the past two weeks. My days were spent in my room, staring at the window with its curtain always drawn. Sometimes I thought... maybe the window was just decoration. Like me in this house. Still. Present. But not truly alive. My parents’ divorce was officially underway, and everything felt too fast, too loud, too suffocating. I barely had time to breathe.

My father, who usually never spent long looking at his phone, sat on the sofa that day for what felt like an eternity. His coffee had gone cold, untouched. His hand gripped the phone, but he didn’t press any buttons. The chair creaked softly as his body shifted, like a heart trying to find a comfortable position but finding none. I just watched him from a distance, trying to read his thoughts from the heaviness of his shoulders.

Then he pressed call. The phone rang. His voice was low, almost like he was holding something back.

"Matt, you need to know... your mother and I are officially divorced. The house in Jakarta isn’t the same anymore. Your sister... she needs you, but I know the distance makes it hard."

I heard Matthew’s voice faintly, but I couldn’t make out the words. My father just bowed his head, listening, and nodded even though Matthew couldn’t see it.

"I can only hope things will get better, Matt. I know it’s tough, but I pray this doesn’t hurt your mental health, or hers. Please... call Cell often. She won’t say anything, but I know she’s breaking."

My father hung up with few words. He stared at the now-black screen for a long while. I thought he was done speaking, but then he let out a slow sigh.

"I didn’t ask him to contact you right away because... you’re already so fragile, Cell. I didn’t want you to feel ambushed by family when you haven’t even had the chance to breathe. But Matthew knows you need him. He promised he’d call you tonight."

My father finally looked at me. I only nodded quietly.

-------

A few hours later, my phone buzzed. Matthew’s name flashed on the screen. I hesitated, but eventually pressed the green button. His voice on the other end was warm, but filled with concern.

"Hey, Cell. Papa told me. How are you holding up?"

I swallowed hard. “I... I don’t know, Matt. Feels like everything shattered overnight.”

"It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk yet. But please eat, okay? Don’t make Papa worry twice."

I gave a short hum. Then... silence came, like fog. Filling the space between our words. But strangely, I didn’t want to hang up. It felt like someone was holding my hand from far away. A comforting silence, but still heavy.

-------

Word of the divorce had already spread at school. One afternoon, Ashley and Jessica went to our old house. But they were greeted only by Bi Maryam.

"Miss Marcella and the Mister have moved to an apartment. The Madam no longer lives here," she said cautiously.

Ashley and Jessica exchanged glances. On their way home, Jessica bit her lip. "Ash... do you think she’s okay?"

Ashley sighed. “I don’t know... but Cell never keeps things from us. And now she’s just gone.”

Jessica looked down. “I miss her so much. I just want to hug her, let her know she’s not alone.”

-------

That first week, I didn’t reply to a single message. The phone rang again and again, unanswered. Even Lucas and Dave, who normally could get through to me, failed this time.

-------

Two weeks later, I returned to school.

That morning, as I pulled on my uniform, a memory floated in—one I hadn’t invited. I was twelve, maybe thirteen, curled up on the living room rug with my father reading the newspaper beside me. My mother was in the kitchen humming a song from her youth. The same one she used to sing in the car when we were all still whole. Matthew was home for the holidays, teasing Gabriel, and the house had been filled with the kind of noise I didn't know I'd one day crave.

Back then, I thought happiness was just... normal. That it was something that didn't need to be protected. I didn’t realize that it could disappear. Or be shattered. My steps echoed oddly down the corridor. In my head, fragments flashed: My mother crying at the dinner table. My father slamming the door. Me standing between two voices, both equally loud. It felt like the world slowed by one second every time I took a step.

As soon as I passed the gate, Ashley and Jessica wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Cell... we missed you so much," Jessica whispered, her voice trembling.

"You’re not alone, okay? Whatever you’re feeling, we’re here," Ashley added, patting my shoulder.

Ashley, though still holding onto the secret of me and Lucas, chose to set it aside. That day wasn’t the time to dig up old wounds.

Jessica reached into her bag. "Here, I brought notes from the past two weeks for you."

I frowned. "You took notes?" I asked, then immediately regretted it. The words had come out faster than my gratitude. Maybe I’d grown too used to being cynical just to survive.

Jessica grinned, then quickly glanced at Ashley. "Ehm... well, actually, I told Ashley to lend me her notes and I photocopied them."

Ashley rolled her eyes, while I nearly laughed for the first time in two weeks. That small moment brought a little warmth into all the chaos.

Just as the air began to feel a bit lighter, I spotted Dave at the end of the hall. He walked slowly toward me, hesitant—but then Lucas suddenly appeared beside me.

"I'm so sorry, about what happened with your family," Lucas said softly.

Dave stopped in his tracks, looked for a moment, then turned back. Maybe because it was awkward, or maybe because some wounds hadn’t healed. From where I stood, I saw his hand clench, then slowly release. Like someone who decided not to fight anymore.

-------

Outside school, my mother was still trying hard to reach me. That day, she waited near the school gate at dismissal. But when I walked out, I just walked faster, pretending to be busy with my phone. My mother stood still, her chest aching. She went into the school restroom to wipe away the tears already falling.

Exiting the toilet with her head down, my mother accidentally stepped to the left—and collided with her past. She bumped into someone. Her purse nearly dropped. "I’m sorry..." she said reflexively, dabbing her cheek with a tissue. When she looked up, her eyes widened.

"Kevin...?" her voice cracked, like she couldn’t believe the person in front of her was real.

Kevin—my English teacher—froze for a moment, then gave a faint smile. "Veronica? It’s been a long time."

There was a long pause before my mother replied, as if processing the reality. They chatted briefly. Kevin had heard a little about the divorce. My mother, who usually kept her distance, opened up more than usual this time. About her guilt, the lost home, and about me—how I now avoided her.

Kevin just listened. Sometimes he nodded, sometimes his gaze drifted, like revisiting an old chapter they once shared. That brief encounter rekindled a closeness long buried.

And I... I had no idea any of that had happened. But sometimes, on the quietest nights, a small voice in my head taps gently, over and over. Not someone else's voice. Maybe it’s from deep inside me. Maybe... it’s a warning of another storm to come. I'm still trying to survive, day by day, amidst the shattered pieces of a home that can never be whole again. But what’s even scarier than all that... maybe I’m not sure I want to put it back together at all.