The Golden Mending

CHAPTER 2 - The Intruder

The rain didn't stop that night. It drummed against the windowpane like a thousand tiny fists trying to break through. But the real storm was already inside my living room.

Putri arrived an hour later. She wasn't the "weak, helpless woman" Roy had described. She walked through my front door wearing a silk wrap that cost more than my monthly grocery budget, clutching a designer diaper bag as if it were a trophy.

"Lala," she said, her voice thin and sweet—like sugar coating a bitter pill. She didn't wait for an invitation. She sat directly on my favorite velvet armchair. "Roy told me you were... understanding. I can’t thank you enough for letting us stay."

I stood by the fireplace, my hands folded neatly in front of me. I didn't offer her tea. I didn't offer her a smile. "This is a temporary arrangement, Putri. Roy mentioned you were 'unwell'."

Putri looked at Roy, who was busy fussing over the baby’s crib in the corner. She leaned in closer to me, her eyes flashing with something that wasn't gratitude. It was victory.

"Post-partum is so difficult, isn't it?" she whispered, loud enough only for me to hear. "Especially when the father of your child is... busy with his legal wife. But Roy has been so devoted to little Intan. He says she has his eyes. Don't you think so?"

I felt a sharp sting in my chest, like a paper cut on the heart. Seven years of trying to give Roy a child, seven years of doctor appointments and herbal teas and whispered prayers at 3 AM. And here she was, flaunting the one thing I couldn't provide.

"Eyes can be deceiving, Putri," I replied calmly. "But the truth always finds its way to the light."

Roy approached us then, looking exhausted but strangely content. "I've set up the guest room for you, Putri. Lala, I hope you don't mind... I moved some of your old painting supplies to the basement to make room for the crib."

My heart skipped a beat. Those "old painting supplies" were my only escape. My only sanctuary.

"Of course, Roy," I said, my voice steady despite the roar in my ears. "The baby's comfort comes first. Always."

Putri smirked. She knew she had won the first round. She didn't know that I wasn't playing a game of territory. I was conducting an audit of my life.

As I watched Roy carry her bags up the stairs, I realized I was no longer the queen of this house. I was a ghost, haunting the halls of a marriage that had died long before the baby arrived.

But ghosts see everything. And I was going to watch every single move they made.