The Golden Mending

CHAPTER 14 -The Lens That Captured a Soul

The drive in Adrian’s car that afternoon was far more peaceful than I had imagined. There was no loud music, only the rhythmic patter of rain against the roof and the faint scent of cinnamon from the air freshener.

"I'm sorry if Roy was a bit... harsh earlier," I said, breaking the silence. "He’s not used to seeing me with a world of my own."

Adrian turned the steering wheel calmly, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Your world is too vast to be locked inside one house, Lala. Roy is probably just afraid of losing control, not losing you."

That sentence hit me. Hard. For seven years, I had been controlled, not loved.

"What about you, Adrian? A war photographer landing in a domestic art exhibition?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "Why were you interested in my painting?"

Adrian smiled slightly. There were faint crinkles at the corners of his eyes that made him look incredibly sincere. "Because my photos usually capture the destruction out there—wars, explosions, tears in the streets. But your painting... it captured a bigger war: the war within yourself. And the way you won it with that 'gold thread'... it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen."

We arrived at a small, hidden coffee shop in a narrow alley in South Jakarta. It was quiet, with only a few customers.

Adrian pulled his camera from his bag. "May I take a photo of you? Not as 'Roy’s Ex-Wife,' but as 'Lala the Artist'?"

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. I sat by the window, which was still blurred with rain. Adrian aimed his lens. Click.

"Beautiful," he whispered, looking at the camera screen. "You have honest eyes, Lala. Don't ever let anyone dim that light again."

Suddenly, my phone vibrated violently on the table. An unknown number appeared. I hesitated but finally picked it up.

"Lala... it’s me, Mother," the hoarse voice said from the other end. It was Mrs. Widya, my former mother-in-law. Her voice was no longer sharp; it was filled with sobs. "Lala, please... Intan has been hospitalized. Roy can't be reached; he’s... he seems to be in a deep depression. I don't know who else to ask for help."

My hands shook. The image of that tiny baby, Maya’s daughter, flashed in my mind. She was innocent. She was just a victim of Roy’s lies.

I looked at Adrian. He seemed to understand just from the look on my face. He didn't ask questions; he simply placed his hand over my trembling one.

"Do what you feel is right in your heart, Lala. I will take you wherever you need to go," Adrian said softly.

Here was my true reality test. Should I go back and help the family that destroyed me for the sake of an orphaned baby? Or should I close that door forever for the sake of my own happiness?