The Golden Mending

CHAPTER 13 - Ashes That Won't Re-ignite

The afternoon rain drenched the streets of Jakarta, leaving behind the heavy scent of wet asphalt. I was just locking the door of the small art gallery where I worked part-time when a car I knew all too well pulled up right in front of me.

Roy stepped out. The face that used to be so arrogant and sharp now looked dull. His hair was messy, and the dark circles under his eyes told a story of sleepless nights. He no longer looked like a man who held the world in his hands.

"Lala," his voice was hoarse, almost swallowed by the sound of the downpour. "Can we talk? Just for a moment."

I gripped the handle of my umbrella tighter. "Everything was settled in court, Roy. There’s nothing left to say."

"Mother is sick, La," Roy stepped closer, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She keeps calling your name. The house... it’s so quiet without you. Putri is gone—I threatened to go to the police. Now it’s just me, Mother, and Intan. I’m drowning, La. I realized... I can’t do anything without you."

I took a long, deep breath. A year ago, these words would have shattered me. I would have felt guilty. But now? I only felt pity. Pity because he was only looking for me now that he needed a "servant" and a "nurse" for the mess he created himself.

"You don't need me, Roy. You just need a housekeeper or a caregiver," I said calmly. "For seven years I was there, and you never treated that house like a home. You treated it like a prison for me."

"I was wrong, La! I did it for Maya, for the family name!" Roy tried to grab my hand, but I pulled away.

"A good name isn't built on lies, Roy. You crushed my self-esteem for seven years for a script you wrote yourself. Now, let me live in my own reality."

Suddenly, another black umbrella appeared beside me. A calming scent of sandalwood filled the air, overpowering the smell of the rain.

"Is there a problem, Lala?"

It was Adrian. He stood beside me, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. His sharp eyes looked at Roy with polite but firm intensity. There was no anger on Adrian’s face, only a quiet, protective strength.

Roy looked Adrian up and down. His face turned a deep, angry red. "Who are you? This is a private family matter!"

"Former family matter," I corrected quickly. "Adrian is a friend. And we have an appointment to see a photography exhibition this afternoon."

Adrian looked at me, giving a small, encouraging smile. "My car is right here. Shall we go?"

I nodded. Without looking back at Roy, who stood frozen in the middle of the rain, I walked toward Adrian’s car. I could feel Roy’s gaze burning into my back—a gaze filled with a regret that came far too late.

Inside the warm car, Adrian handed me a bottle of water. "I’m sorry if I overstepped back there."

"Thank you, Adrian," I said sincerely. "You just saved me from a past that was trying to pull me back."

Adrian started the engine. "The past is like a rearview mirror, Lala. It’s okay to look at it once in a while to check your path, but don't keep staring at it. You need to focus on the windshield. Your road ahead is long, and it's beautiful."

I smiled, watching the raindrops race down the window. Roy was the ashes of my past, and ashes can never be fanned back into a flame.