Wildan paced back and forth inside his office. He looked restless, glancing repeatedly at the watch on his right wrist. His face was tense, burdened by countless thoughts.
A knock sounded at the door. Wildan glanced at the wall clock in the corner of the room. It was five minutes past ten.
"Come in," he said, eyes fixed on the door.
The door opened. Arya appeared, and Wildan greeted him eagerly.
"Any news?"
Arya shrugged, lips curling slightly. "No news from her, Mas."
"Damn it!" Wildan cursed, punching his left palm with his right fist. "Do you know what time it is now? Is she playing games with me?"
A sigh sounded behind him—Arya's. He looked just as uneasy, almost desperate.
"I told you, didn't I? This plan is too risky. You were too confident, too trusting."
"But that's the truth. They're people worth trusting. What, should I just ignore them?"
"Well, look at how things turned out. Besides, Mbak Galuh didn't give her phone number. I can't contact her."
"What should I do now?" Wildan turned to face Arya. "Do I give up and let Henggar take over the company?"
Arya shook his head firmly. "No, Mas. You know their intentions aren't clean."
"That's exactly the problem. And now we're stuck like this." Wildan walked back to his chair and dropped into it heavily, staring blankly ahead.
"Or should we find another woman willing to be paid?" Arya suggested.
"Is that even possible? Won't Father become more suspicious?"
Silence fell between them as both were lost in their thoughts. The situation was anything but favorable.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Arya hurried to answer the desk phone.
"Yes… all right. Thank you." His tense tone made Wildan curious.
"Who was it?"
"A call from home. They contacted the office because your phone wasn't answered."
Instinctively, Wildan pulled his phone from his suit pocket. Several missed calls—Aunt Mona, his father's number, and others.
"Yes? What is it?" Wildan said. "I ignored the calls on purpose. Father must want me to come home and interrogate me again about the same thing."
"This time it's different, Mas. Pak Cakra collapsed. He's in the hospital."
"What?" Without waiting for more details, Wildan jumped to his feet. "We need to go. Now."
Cakrabuana was in a VIP room at a private hospital near his residence. When Wildan and Arya entered, Mona—Wildan and Wistara's stepmother—looked distraught, her eyes red from crying.
"Wildan… where have you been? Your father has been looking for you since yesterday."
"I was busy, Aunt."
"You should make more time for your father. You know his illness isn't something to take lightly."
Wildan didn't respond. His focus was entirely on his father lying weakly on the bed.
"Wistara was looking for you too. He waited until midnight," Mona added, then fell silent when ignored.
Wildan dialed a number. "Wistara, where are you?"
"I'm here, Mas." Wistara's deep voice sounded from behind him.
"I didn't know Father collapsed."
"With end-stage cancer and such a weak immune system, it's not surprising," Wistara said calmly. "Especially since he refuses chemotherapy."
Wistara was as tall as Wildan but much thinner, wearing glasses that framed his face.
"So what do we do now? You're a doctor."
"I am, but when it comes to Father, I'm helpless." He raised his hands. "Wouldn't it be better to move him to the hospital where I work?"
Wildan nodded. Their father was stubborn—convincing him was always difficult.
"Hello, Aunt," Wistara greeted Mona warmly.
"What should we do? I can't persuade him."
"We have to respect Father's wishes," Wistara replied. "We can only take it step by step."
"Wildan…" Cakrabuana's weak voice called.
"Yes, Father. I'm here. Wistara is here too." Wildan leaned closer. "What hurts?"
The breathing machine hissed softly. Cakrabuana opened his eyes and looked at Wildan for a long moment.
"I will wait…" he murmured.
Wildan understood. The weight on his chest grew heavier.
"My time may not be long," Cakrabuana whispered.
"Don't say that, Father," Wistara said quickly. "We haven't tried everything yet."
"Be patient…" Cakrabuana said faintly.
Wildan glanced at his watch—noon. Disappointment was clear in his eyes.
Then his phone rang. Arya. Hope flickered.
"Galuh?" Wildan asked immediately.
"She doesn't seem interested, Mas," Arya replied weakly. "She's not after money."
Wildan ended the call, conflicted. Mona stood nearby, watching him closely.
"Tante… give me Celine's number."
Mona's face lit up. "So you'll accept my offer?"
She sent the number immediately. "She's the best choice for you."
"Thank you," Wildan said coldly, then walked away.
"Go, Nduk," Samsul urged gently. "Don't keep Nak Wildan waiting."
"I don't want to marry, Father."
Galuh stood, adjusted her worn jeans, grabbed her sneakers.
"I just want to work harder and pay the debt."
Samsul lowered his head, ashamed.
"I'm sorry," Galuh said softly, then hugged him. "Please stay home."
At work, Galuh congratulated Wenni on her engagement, smiling genuinely.
"I want to marry for love," Galuh thought. Then Wildan's image appeared in her mind.
"He's rich. Out of my league. And selfish."
She pulled out his business card, sighed, and tucked it back just as the café door opened.
"Good afternoon—" Her greeting froze.
It was him.
Their eyes met.
And the atmosphere shifted instantly.
***
"Wait for me at the café across the hospital," Wistara said to Wildan as they finally parted ways in the hospital lobby. Wildan nodded and headed toward the exit.
Just as Wistara had said, the café was indeed right across the hospital. It wasn't very crowded—only a handful of customers were there.
Wildan, who had never been to that café before, stepped inside through the sliding door. A greeting from one of the staff broke his reverie, and the voice felt strangely familiar. He turned his gaze toward the cashier.
A young woman with a pretty face welcomed him with a bright smile. That smile instantly shifted into startled disbelief. She fumbled, visibly awkward, as their eyes met.
"You…" Galuh finally managed to speak, her voice trailing off. The air between them turned uncomfortable.
"One hot vanilla latte and one iced americano," Wildan ordered calmly, pulling his wallet from inside his suit. Seeing how casual he was—acting as if he didn't know her—Galuh felt a slight sense of relief, though guilt still weighed heavily on her chest.
"Alright, Sir. I'll prepare extra creamer on the side," Galuh replied, forcing herself to remain professional. "Please wait a moment."
Wildan didn't respond. He stood quietly, watching her work. He showed no sign of familiarity at all, yet his gaze followed her every movement, making Galuh increasingly uneasy.
"Here's your order," Galuh said, handing him the drinks before returning to the cashier. "The total is fifty-seven thousand five hundred rupiah, tax included."
Wildan handed her a one-hundred-thousand-rupiah bill. Galuh accepted it with trembling hands. He remained silent, his eyes never leaving her.
When she returned the change and receipt, Wildan was still watching her. She felt stiff under his gaze.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Just then, the café door opened. Wistara walked in and approached Wildan, who had just taken his drinks.
"What did you order, Mas?" Wistara asked.
"I ordered an iced americano for you. Your favorite, right?"
Wistara nodded. "Aren't you having lunch? You've been at the hospital all day."
Wildan didn't answer.
"I'll order food, then. The black pepper beef here is amazing," Wistara said, patting Wildan's shoulder before heading to the counter.
"Hi, Mbak Galuh! How have you been?" Wistara greeted her cheerfully.
Both Wildan and Galuh were surprised—neither expected Wistara to know her.
"Hi, Mas Wistara. I'm fine, thank God," Galuh replied nervously, her eyes flicking toward Wildan.
"Still handsome as ever, right?" Wistara joked. "You've been gone for a few days. Where have you been?"
Galuh hesitated, trying to think of a reasonable answer. She had indeed been absent for two days because of what happened—events Wildan had been part of.
"I had an urgent matter," she replied.
"Oh, I see. All sorted out now?"
"Yes, thankfully," Galuh answered with a forced smile. "What would you like to order, Mas? The usual? Hot plate water spinach?"
"Yep. And add one black pepper beef set too. My older brother here is obsessed with that dish," Wistara said proudly, slinging an arm around Wildan's shoulder.
"I don't have much appetite, Tara," Wildan said flatly.
Still draping an arm around him, Wistara guided Wildan toward a seat at the far end of the café. Galuh watched them from the corner of her eye.
"Don't overthink about Father, Mas. We'll find a solution," Wistara tried to reassure him. "If only Father agreed to treatment in Singapore, it wouldn't be this bad." He paused. "And that's exactly why you should hurry up and get married—so Father can be at peace."
Clang!
The sound of a spoon hitting the floor made both men turn. Galuh had dropped it—she'd been too nervous, overhearing their conversation.
"Are you alright, Mbak Galuh?" Wistara asked with concern.
"I—I'm fine, Mas."
Wildan observed her lowered gaze, noticing how she avoided his eyes. He deliberately chose a seat facing the cashier, positioning himself so he could keep watching her.
"Mas, please sit down first. I'll bring the food over," Galuh said to Wistara.
Wistara looked confused but nodded. "Alright, then."
As he joined Wildan, he frowned. "Why sit here, Mas? This is unusual."
"It's more comfortable here," Wildan replied shortly, his eyes drifting toward the cashier—where Galuh was stealing glances at him.
They talked quietly about their father. Galuh delivered their food, her head still lowered.
"Why so nervous today, Mbak Galuh?" Wistara teased. "Am I that scary today?" He glanced at Wildan. "Or is Mas Wildan's face the problem?"
Wildan shot him a sharp look, making Wistara burst out laughing.
"He always looks scary," Wistara whispered conspiratorially, "but his heart is very soft."
Galuh smiled awkwardly, still glancing toward Wildan.
"Help me find a wife for my brother, Mbak," Wistara continued joking. "I've introduced him to young doctors, but none caught his interest. Sometimes I wonder if our CEO here is more interested in his personal assistant than in women."
"Stop talking nonsense, Tara," Wildan said calmly—but firmly.
Arya suddenly appeared beside them. "Enough nonsense," he said, then froze when he noticed Galuh—and realized Wistara knew her.
"This is the handsome guy I was telling you about, Mbak Galuh," Wistara whispered, holding back laughter. "No wonder our CEO fell for him."
Wildan glared again.
"Maybe Mbak Galuh would like to be added to the blind date list for our CEO," Arya teased.
Wistara laughed even harder, pounding the table. "Impossible. This girl is a workaholic."
Galuh forced a tight smile, feeling helpless as she became the topic of their jokes.
Then Wildan spoke.
"How much would you ask to go on a blind date with me?"
Galuh froze, eyes wide in shock.
Wistara went completely silent, stunned. Arya choked on his drink.
No one had expected those words—least of all Galuh.
***