A drizzle dampened the cemetery, carrying the sharp smell of wet earth. Naira Agatha stood in front of a gravestone whose name had been etched into her heart long ago.
Defian Arshaka Nugraha “Forever in our memories.”
Three years had passed, but her grief was still fresh, like a wound that had never truly healed. She crouched down, her fingers brushing over the gravestone’s cold surface.
“Hey ... you know what? It feels like my heart was buried with you,” she whispered. “I’ve tried getting close to other people, but no one makes me feel as comfortable as I did with you.”
Naira smiled bitterly. “Is this karma for me? I used to keep rejecting you, and now I’m the one who feels rejected.”
Naira’s breathing grew heavy. “Are you not okay with me being with someone else?”
A gentle breeze blew past, carrying a faint voice that made her shiver.
“It’s not that I’m not okay with it. You’re the one who doesn’t want to.”
Naira’s heart sank. That voice ... it wasn’t her imagination. She turned quickly, and there he was—the person she had desperately tried to avoid all this time.
Arshaka Denandra.
Their eyes met, Naira’s gaze filled with irritation. “What are you doing here?”
Shaka stepped closer, both hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “I was going to come here. But then I found you here. Maybe it’s a sign?” he asked as he crouched beside the grave.
Naira snorted. “No! It’s just a coincidence.”
Her gaze returned to Defian’s gravestone. Her voice was soft. “Defian, once again ... forgive me. You’ll always be in my heart.”
A sarcastic laugh came from Shaka’s direction. “No wonder you feel like you were buried too. You really say things like that.”
Naira’s eyes immediately sharpened. She wanted to fire back, but there was no point. Shaka always had a way of leaving her at a loss for words.
So she chose to leave.
Shaka watched Naira’s retreating back, then whispered, “Bro, let me be with her, okay?”
He glanced at Defian’s gravestone one last time, then stood and chased after Naira, who was almost out of the cemetery.
“Nai.”
“Don’t call me Nai,” Naira shot back.
She stopped when Shaka grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn around.
“Come home with me.”
Naira slapped his hand away. “Let go!”
Shaka didn’t move. His eyes locked onto Naira’s. “Come. Home. With. Me.”
She had no choice. Naira gave in.
She followed behind Shaka, who had already started his motorcycle. The ride home felt incredibly long, even though they remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
When the motorcycle stopped in front of the house, Naira immediately got off and walked toward the door without looking back. But for some reason, something inside her made her stop and glance over her shoulder.
Shaka was still standing there, watching her.
“Why are you still here? Go home!”
Shaka raised an eyebrow. “I’m not being invited in?”
Naira didn’t answer. Her hateful glare said enough.
Shaka sighed, giving up for now. “Okay, I’m going home. See you tomorrow, babe.”
Damn it.
Naira let out a long sigh before finally entering the house, leaving behind the feelings still raging in her chest.
That morning, the roar of a large motorcycle came to a stop in front of Naira’s house again. She already knew who had arrived, but the irritation still spread through her.
Lazily, she grabbed her bag and went outside, finding Shaka sitting on his motorcycle with his usual blank expression.
Without a word, Naira climbed onto the passenger seat.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Shaka’s voice rang out, but Naira only snorted.
“I never asked you to pick me up.”
Shaka didn’t answer. He only sighed before finally riding away.