After staying at May's place for a few days, blending in with the locals, and still trying to calm myself down, Frans apologized to May because he couldn’t return at the promised time due to some minor issues. Sweetly, he gave May tickets for a boat ride on Ha Long Bay as both a gift and an apology to his wife.
I felt a bit uneasy about constantly accepting May's kindness, so after a lengthy debate, we finally agreed that I would treat her to dinner. Initially, May refused because she considered me a guest, but we settled on it after I threatened to leave Vietnam immediately if she didn’t agree. Besides, I wanted to give her a gift to celebrate her marriage. She’s always been so kind to me, and I feel that treating her to a meal on a cruise is a small gesture compared to her genuine kindness all this time.
So here I am tonight, aboard the Ha Long International Cruise, enjoying the starry sky and the beautiful reflection of the moon. From where we’re seated, we also have a clear view of the towering karst islands, adorned with thousands of twinkling fishing boat lights.
They say we tend to think of a loved one when we’re either deeply sad or extremely happy—when sad, we long for them to come from somewhere and save us; when happy, we hope they’re doing well too.
“What is he doing now?” I mused, staring at the twinkling boat lights and thinking about Indra. That man should have some creative idea that I wouldn’t guess, even without a passport or visa.
“Why is our food taking so long, Pris?” May asked, occasionally checking her phone.
I turned to her, the gentle breeze tousling my hair, and smiled amusedly at her impatience. “Waiting for something?”
“My husband said he’d video call.”
Soon after, May’s phone rang; it was a video call from Frans. He greeted me and thanked me for keeping May company while she’s home alone. I told him I didn’t have anything else to do, so it was no problem at all. At the same time, our ordered food arrived.
Frans, in his place, was also eating and resting. We talked about many things over the next 20 minutes, and then Frans had to go.
“Bye, Honey,” May said, ending the call.
“Have fun,” Frans replied.
May smiled happily after the brief conversation and turned to me to return my smile. I wasn’t envious of being here alone without Indra; I was more in awe of the heartwarming scene I’d just witnessed—how beautiful it is when two people truly love each other.
“How did you know you had to marry Frans?” I asked as May busily pushed aside broccoli on her empty plate.
May shrugged and smiled sweetly. “I don’t know, Pris. My heart just knew he was the right one, the one who needed to fill that missing part of me. I used to think I liked guys like A or B, that my type had to be this or that, but in the end, it didn’t matter… everything just reset, and I knew he was the one.”
I was stunned by the glow in May’s eyes as she talked about Frans. Their meeting wasn’t as complicated as my story with Indra. One day, May went to a temple to pray and accidentally saw a wallet left behind in the park. She tried to contact the number on the business card inside, and their relationship grew from there.
“Listen to your heart, Pris. It seems like Indra is good for you. I don’t know him personally, but from how he treats you… I think he’s serious. It’s okay; there’s always a way. Forgive yourself slowly; no one’s stopping you from falling in love.”
***
Returning to Indonesia alone. I still kept Indra’s business phone off because there wasn’t any urgency to turn it on. Besides, my mind was in turmoil, still desperately needing reassurance to make everything clearer. But May was right that I unconsciously found comfort in Indra, regardless of what happened in our past, and hopefully, not many people know about it.
He promised to quit smoking and cut down on drinking. I doubt Indra can stop, even though deep down, I want to believe he can do that, because I so much want to be with him. At least, for his own good, if not too much for me. Indra will always be Indra.
Am I playing hard to get with Indra, even though I’m not that hard to get? Not really, I’m just measuring his sincerity. I want to make him stop habits that I consider bad. He could find a dozen women prettier and more attractive; he could do whatever he wants, and I’m just Priska, just Priska. Even though he always praises me as beautiful, I somehow doubt it. Perhaps it’s because of my extremely low self-confidence, so I have to learn to love myself more.
After being exhausted from traveling around Southeast Asia, I decided to just sleep on the plane. When I arrived in Indonesia, I didn’t dare go to Dr. Satria’s house because I feared being asked a lot of things that were hard for most people to accept logically. So the only place that crossed my mind was Sigi’s house.
“Hopefully, Bisma isn’t there,” I muttered as I hailed a taxi.
Not long after, the taxi stopped. The driver helped me load the two bags I brought into the car, and then I got into the back passenger seat. I mentioned Sigi’s address and quietly hoped this taxi meter wasn’t rigged. Hopefully not; it’s from a well-known taxi company.
At Sigi’s house, the lawyer who had helped me a lot, we talked about Indra and my feelings, which were becoming less objective. She said it was okay as long as I was happy with him, but she would still bring him to justice if he broke my trust. Bisma’s sister advised me that in love, sometimes nothing is black or white, and I understood.
A few days later, I waited for Aldo on Faby’s rooftop; we had an appointment, and I needed to talk to him face-to-face. But the bespectacled man kept insulting me and criticizing my relationship with Indra, maybe out of jealousy because his friend was consciously trying to build a life with me, even though Aldo had probably warned Indra against it long ago.
I threatened him with fake legal documents, and he looked scared, even though he tried to hide it. The Chinese journalist in glasses shared his secrets and was furious that I dared to retaliate against him. When I felt unsafe, I chose to leave, but Aldo grabbed the T-shirt I was wearing under this floral dress.
“How dare you threaten me, Pris?!” Aldo said.
“Aldo, let go of my future wife, or I will mess up that handsome face of yours,” Indra snorted in amusement.
Our gazes locked and I froze in place, afraid he might do something reckless. Fortunately, Indra arrived and made Aldo leave while snatching the documents from my hand. My man caught me as I almost fell in fear of Aldo’s actions.
“What did Aldo do to you?” he asked gently.
Indra, please don’t talk to me when I’m vulnerable and tearful like this. Because I’m having a hard time breathing, it’s naturally hard for me to speak. You’ve known me since I was 21 and know I’m easily fooled by people like Aldo, who are smooth talkers. But now I’m 26 and know a bit more about the world and the various kinds of people in it. From others’ perspectives, our relationship must seem strange.
“Pris, it’s okay, you have me. I’m here; you’re not alone anymore. Next time, don’t meet Aldo without my permission. He’s my close friend, but I don’t want you dealing with him again.” Indra stroked my hair and occasionally kissed the top of my head to soothe me.
 
~ The End ~