At that moment, all Jandro could think about was finishing this meeting quickly and leaving Jakarta.
He even called his secretary on the way to the airport, asking that all appointments and meetings for the next few weeks be cleared. As usual, his secretary simply agreed, without asking where he'd gone like a jealous old wife. However, Jandro also asked for his active cell phone numbers while he was away from the office.
Inwardly, he cursed himself. Shameful, his inner voice scolded. Heartbroken just like that and immediately unable to work. Wanting to be alone... like a girl. But Jandro didn't care. For the first time in his life, he felt this disappointed. Correct, this was the second time...
When his first love rejected him in junior high.
To make matters worse, his annoying older sister found out too. But that's another story...
Jandro snorted. Nuna's last words to him still rang in his ears. He'd told her about his boredom with being the third wheel in the relationship between her and her fiancé. "You know, from the start of our relationship, I couldn't choose. He was my parents' chosen husband." There was silence. "I can't do anything but live a future according to my parents' wishes."
"And me? Where am I in your future plans?"
The girl didn't say anything, just cried in front of him. Jandro hated seeing girls cry. Something inside him felt disgusted and automatically guilty, for some unknown reason. The boy's question was left hanging. That afternoon, in the parking lot of the cafe where they'd met that afternoon, Nuna said goodbye.
Goodbye forever...
The plane ride didn't feel long because Jandro spent his free time sleeping or staring out the window. Nothing but clouds... and the rest was empty—much like his life right now.
He didn't want to sound like a loser, but that was the reality of his life. Nuna was the color in his otherwise gray life. Heck, with so many meetings and overtime hours at the office, how could he possibly have time for love? But Nuna made it all possible. Despite their oh-so-complicated status, she was a caring person. Morning and night, she would call, just to ask if Jandro had eaten or taken his vitamins (which she provided for him every month). Nuna would appear at his office door more than once, bringing him food. Or, sometimes, she would just wait for him while he worked while reading a magazine.
In these instances, Jandro felt victorious. Her "official" fiancé certainly didn't receive the same super-special attention as he did.
The man stared at his faint reflection in the window. His curly hair was cropped short, but he still looked professional. His broad shoulders and athletic build were clad in a mint green suit and shirt, matched with a black skinny tie—a gift from Nuna for his birthday. Even his personal portfolio looked impressive. He had successfully run the family business, even turning it into a value two or three times greater than when his father was in charge. Bottom line: for someone his age, Jandro had exceeded expectations. He was...The ideal figure every woman dreams of, longing for a stable partner, respected by men. But... why, so far, has Jandro only been seen by Nuna as an alternative, one who was ultimately let go when he was forced to pursue a more serious relationship?
Instead of the way he felt a few minutes ago, Jandro now felt defeated. He'd never met the man who was now officially Nuna's fiancé, but did that man realize he'd already outdone Jandro by taking the Nuna he loved?
"There are plenty more fish in the sea." He'd read lines like this in magazines' love advice sections. Jandro was aware of that too. But could the 'fish' out there match all that Nuna had done? Could she be a less demanding girlfriend when he was forced to spend more time at the office? Could she make him think about her 24/7?
The man grumbled. Of course, the answer was no. Only Nuna could.
Only Nuna...
Jandro arrived at his family's villa in Ubud in a state of frustration.
He couldn't even muster a polite smile when Mrs. Karsih greeted him at the door. All he wanted to do was spend as much time as possible in his room, watching TV or reading a book (he'd bought some at the airport bookstore earlier). Or anything to distract himself from the thought of jumping off the balcony or slitting his wrists with a cutter like the man he was.
He flopped onto the bed. It was silent. With the tips of his toes, he pushed off the loafers he'd been wearing all day. His eyes closed. He was miles away from Nuna and Jakarta, but the image of that girl still left a mark on his cornea, burning his eyes with longing and anger at the reminder that she was no longer his. Correct, Nuna wasn't his from the start. He was just too stupid to realize it now.
He reached for his bag and pulled out his BlackBerry. Despite some hesitation, he finally decided to access his Twitter account.
@alejandrovimana Letting you go is the hardest thing I've ever done, but continuing to love you is even more painful.
There. He tweeted his pain. But it still didn't provide any relief in his chest.
Stressed by his own thoughts, Jandro finally forced himself to get up and drag himself to the bathroom. Walking absentmindedly like a zombie, his fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt one by one, then simply removed it on his way to the bathroom. His trousers and boxer briefs did the same.
Upon arriving in the bathroom, the large mirror in front of the sink reflected Jandro's athletic body. He could see the sleek movements of his muscles as he turned the shower faucet and adjusted the water temperature to lukewarm—just as he desired. In an instant, the mirror fogged up, and his previously visible reflection became dim, almost disappearing. Jandro growled under his breath as he let the strong gush of water from the shower wash away all the fatigue and weariness within him. If only he could, Jandro would have loved to scrub away the sadness and heartbreak too, but that, of course, was only a fantasy. The boy sighed in disappointment, then picked up the shampoo bottle that Mrs. Karsih had deliberately placed next to the liquid soap bottle in a small niche in the wall.
He rubbed his shampoo-covered hair until it lathered, then let the shower spray rinse it all clean. His right hand...
He reached for the cap of the liquid soap bottle. He pressed it a few times to get enough soap into his palm. Jandro rubbed his smooth chest, then his stomach, which was hard with muscle and the effects of a cold. Ah, remembering the cold, makes me remember Nuna's recipe for it. "Chicken soup, eucalyptus oil—" The girl's eyes glinted mischievously, "—and a loving kiss on my aching stomach..."
The boy's breathing became heavier. His entire body reacted to the sensual image of his (former) girlfriend, to the memory of the barrage of kisses and gentle bites on his stomach and other parts of her body. Something inside him hardened, and Jandro let it go. Sadly, only the memory of Nuna could arouse him. He would never see the real person again. Especially if the wedding of the girl and her parents' chosen fiancé—ugh—was to be held at the end of this year. That meant, in just three months, Nuna would officially be a no-no for the boy.
Feeling completely clean, the boy finally turned on the shower faucet and the water stopped flowing. Jandro's body was still glistening with water as one foot stepped out of the bathtub. That's when he remembered he'd forgotten to bring a towel. And if he wasn't mistaken, it was on the bed, where he'd placed it without realizing it while lying down.
Jandro didn't feel embarrassed as he opened the bathroom door and exited naked. The room was closed, and Mrs. Karsih had already excused herself to go home while she was lazing around.
His feet left wet footprints on the marble floor as he walked over to the bed. His hand was already outstretched to grab the white towel when his intuition warned him that a pair of eyes were watching him. He reflexively turned toward the door and caught a familiar figure staring shamelessly back at his naked body.
Shit!
He quickly hid behind the side of the bed—while, of course, roughly pulling off the bedcover—the only thing within reach. Jandro shooed Sarah out, and that was the last time he saw her in his presence.
Feeling safe, Jandro ran to the door, locked it from the inside, and then hurriedly dressed. He grabbed the clothes on top of his suitcase—a long-sleeved t-shirt and plaid shorts.
All sorts of questions raced through his mind, most of them concerning Sarah's presence at the family villa. Could she have been with Anye yesterday, Jandro thought, then snorted in disapproval. But... if so, where is my annoying sister?
When he opened the bedroom door, he saw the girl on the phone.
"Sar-"
The girl reflexively turned around. "I'm trying to call your brother."