Ah, damn! That question just made me feel annoyed. At times like this, the best thing I could do was lie. In my opinion, lying to save my pride wasn't a bad thing.
I furrowed my brows and tried to put on a pained expression, adding a soft groan that escaped my lips. This should be convincing enough.
"What's wrong?" Damar asked. His face looked surprised, especially when I bent over and clutched my stomach. What exactly was I doing?
"Sit down," he said. It seemed like my plan had worked. I could pretend I couldn't go home yet because of a stomachache rather than telling the truth and having Damar mock me again.
"Where does it hurt?" he asked while I tried hard to suppress my laughter and kept up my act of being in pain.
"Stomachache?" he confirmed, and I weakly nodded. I kept praising myself in my head. In my entire life, this was the first time I had acted this ridiculously.
"Didn't you say you were feeling better yesterday?" He asked something I didn't even have an answer to.
"Menstrual cramps can last for two to three days," I said as an excuse, grimacing in pain to perfect my little performance. Oh, I must have truly lost my mind to be doing all this.
"Do you need medicine?" he asked.
"No need, it'll go away on its own soon," I replied, still clutching my stomach. By 'soon,' I meant as soon as the heavy rain stopped, so I could go home safely.
"How about warm water?" he asked.
"For what?" I asked, confused.
"To press against your stomach. I saw my mom do that when she had a stomachache," Damar explained. To keep him from getting suspicious, I finally nodded in agreement. Warm water? Usually, if I had menstrual cramps, I would just sleep, and when I woke up, the pain would have eased.
Inside, I kept hoping the rain would stop soon. How long was I supposed to keep pretending to have a stomachache? Even I found this whole act ridiculous.
Damar returned not long after, carrying a drinking bottle that seemed to contain warm water. Stay calm, Bulan—don't let Damar find out you're lying.
"Press it against your stomach," he instructed, and as he said, I pressed the warm bottle against my stomach. The cramps from my period had already faded, but surprisingly, pressing the warm bottle to my stomach actually felt comforting.
"Do you need pain relief medicine?" he asked again. I shook my head and started feeling like this guy was sitting too close to me. Slowly, I shifted away from him—how annoying.
"What do you usually do when you're in pain like this?" he asked. The longer this went on, the more I felt like he was asking too many questions.
"Nothing. Just sit still until it goes away," I answered.
"Or maybe you should eat something first so it doesn't feel as bad?" Again, I shook my head, making Damar frown as if he was trying to figure out what else to do.
"It won't last long. Maybe by the time the rain stops, the pain will be gone too," I said.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Damar stopped asking more questions. With the table still full of the food he had ordered earlier, he walked back inside. That made me happy—I didn't have to see him anymore. I kept hoping in my heart that the rain would stop soon.
"Lie down for a bit." Damar's voice came again just as I was feeling relieved. He returned with a pillow and a blanket. Did he really think bringing me these things would make me happy? If anything, it made me even more anxious. A man asking a woman to lie down in his house was definitely suspicious.
"It's cold outside, and you need to stay warm so your stomachache gets better," he said. He wasn't wrong, but he shouldn't be saying that in front of someone who was lying to him.
"I'm not in that much pain," I said and took the pillow he brought, using it to support my back, while the blanket only covered my thighs and legs. That was much safer than actually lying down like he suggested.
Neither of us spoke after that. I felt incredibly awkward, even breathing felt like a mistake. I just couldn't bring myself to make small talk in front of a man I didn't like.
Pretending to be in pain, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the couch. But with my eyes open, I found myself confused about what to say to him.
I originally came here because Damar was sick, so how did it end up with me pretending to be sick instead? Hopefully, Damar would never, ever find out about my lie.
Curiosity got the better of me because the silence was too much. I peeked through a tiny slit in my eyes. Damar was nowhere in the living room, which gave me a sense of relief. Maybe he got bored waiting for me to say something and went back to sleep. Or maybe he just didn't care about my condition and decided to leave me alone.
The sound of rain was still clear, even louder than before. Should I just leave? Was I really going to keep pretending to be sick until morning?
The sound of footsteps approaching made me hold my breath and put on my pained expression again. The aroma of hot chocolate filled my senses, making me turn my head quickly.
"You didn't have to go through the trouble," I said when I saw Damar approaching with a cup of hot chocolate.
"It's no trouble. This is my hot chocolate. If you want some, you can make your own in the kitchen," he said, leaving me momentarily stunned. Damn! I thought he was being nice by making me hot chocolate.
"But go ahead and drink it if you don't feel like going to the kitchen," he added, making me give him a sour smile. What a weird guy.
"I should go now. I'm feeling better," I said as he placed the cup of hot chocolate in front of me. He sure knew how to tempt me.
"But it's still raining," he said.
"It's fine," I replied. I'd figure out how to drive without working wipers later. For now, I just wanted to leave this house as soon as possible.
Damar didn't say anything else or try to stop me. With small, quick steps, I finally made it into my car.
I'd probably have to drive at the slowest speed possible just to see the road clearly, though I wasn't entirely sure if that would even work.
I grabbed some tissues and wiped my wet face and hands. Once I felt dry enough, I tried starting my car. Once, twice, three times—I tried, but the engine wouldn't turn on.
What the hell? I hadn't even solved the wiper problem, and now I had another issue—the car wouldn't start. What did I do to deserve this string of bad luck? Was it because I was jealous and annoyed with Damar? That wasn't a crime—it was just a natural feeling anyone would have in my situation.
Okay, Bulan, now's not the time to think about Damar. I needed to figure out how to get my car running.
I was about to give up after trying multiple times when suddenly, a knocking sound on my car window startled me. Even though the raindrops made the glass blurry, I was sure that it was Damar outside, knocking on my window—holding a blue umbrella to shield himself from the rain.(*)