That gaze pierced me, as cold as morning dew against the skin. I kept my head bowed, not daring to look up even once at the face belonging to that baritone voice.
“Why are you just standing there? Come inside. Master must be hungry.” Auntie Sum broke the awkward silence hanging between the three of us.
Master Arya’s footsteps passed right by me without another word. The elegant, masculine scent of his cologne brushed past for a moment, leaving behind a trace that, for some reason, made my heart pound even more wildly.
“Ayu, dear, come help Auntie bring the food outside.” Auntie Sum’s voice pulled me out of my brief reverie. I nodded quickly, then hurried toward the kitchen.
My hands trembled as I lifted the tray of dessert. Not because it was heavy, but because the image of Master Arya’s stern face was still vividly etched in my mind. His eyes were sharp, as if they could strip bare every secret I kept tightly hidden.
The dining table beside the swimming pool had been arranged to perfection. Small candles flickered dimly, mingling with the golden glow of the garden lights. It was such a different atmosphere from my old home, which had always been filled with shouting and insults.
Master Arya sat with an air of undeniable authority. He had taken off his jacket, leaving only a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jaw was firm and his eyebrows thick, but a hint of weariness showed beneath his features. Perhaps it was the effect of a long trip from overseas.
“Please try it first, Master. It’ll get cold.” Auntie Sum presented him with the appetizer, corn soup, while glancing at me standing stiffly behind her.
All I could do was lower my head and rearrange the spoons and forks that were already perfectly in place, simply to distract myself from the nervousness creeping through my entire body.
One dish after another, Master Arya began to eat. He said very little and offered no comments, only moving his hands steadily as he lifted his spoon and fork. I held my breath every time his eyes glanced toward the table, worried that something might not be to his liking.
Then came the main course: chicken rica-rica, which I had made with a little extra bird’s-eye chili to suit my own taste, without fully realizing that it wasn’t the original recipe Auntie Sum usually cooked.
“Oh, dear, why did you add chili? Master doesn’t like spicy food.” Auntie Sum whispered frantically in my ear, but by then everything had already been served.
My heart sank. How could I have been so presumptuous, changing the recipe without permission? I wanted to take the plate back, but it was too late. Master Arya had already reached for his spoon, scooped up a steaming piece of chicken, and put it in his mouth.
I held my breath, waiting for a reaction that might become the beginning of my ruin. But contrary to my expectations, his expression softened instead. Spoonful after spoonful followed in quick succession. He occasionally reached for a glass of water, but he never once stopped eating.
“Who cooked this?” he asked. His baritone sounded slightly different this time, no longer as flat as before.
Auntie Sum glanced at me, as if signaling me to answer for myself. “I-I did, Master. I’m sorry if it’s too spicy. I—”
“It’s delicious.” The single word slipped out, cutting off my unfinished sentence.
I blinked, unable to believe what I had just heard. Hadn’t Auntie Sum said Master Arya didn’t like spicy food? But now, his plate was nearly empty, and he even reached for more rice.
“Thank God you like it, Master,” Auntie Sum said with a relieved smile, giving me a meaningful glance.
I simply lowered my head, hiding the flush that, for some reason, felt warm against my cheeks. A strange feeling slowly crept over me—something I hadn’t felt in a long time, not since my marriage to Bima. The feeling of being appreciated, even if it was only through a simple plate of food.
Dessert was served next: Auntie Sum’s rich caramel pudding. Master Arya enjoyed it calmly, occasionally looking toward the swimming pool, where ripples shimmered with reflected lamplight.
The atmosphere that night felt more relaxed than I had imagined. Even so, I kept my distance, standing a little farther away while occasionally helping Auntie Sum clear away the empty plates that were no longer needed.
“Auntie, Mr. Ali, you can go get some rest. I’ll take care of the rest,” Master Arya said suddenly, making Auntie Sum and Mr. Ali exchange glances.
“Oh, is that okay, Master? Let Ayu—”
“I know. I want to talk to her.” His words were calm, but they were enough to send my heartbeat racing wildly again.
Auntie Sum nodded repeatedly, though a trace of worry showed behind her faint smile. “Yes, Master. Ayu, stay here for now, okay? Keep Master company.”
All I could do was nod stiffly as Auntie Sum and Mr. Ali’s footsteps grew more distant, leaving me alone with a man whose name I had only learned that night.
The night breeze blew gently, carrying the scent of flowers from the garden surrounding the pool. But it couldn’t calm the turmoil churning inside my chest.
Master Arya leaned back in his chair and stared intently at me. For some reason, that gaze felt different from the one I had caught when he first got out of the car.
“Sit,” he said curtly, pointing to the empty chair across from him.
I swallowed, hesitant to move. But I had no choice except to obey him.
“I heard everything from Auntie Sum.” He paused, as if deliberately leaving the sentence hanging to make me even more uneasy.
“I want to hear it directly from you, Ayu. How did you end up sitting there alone, crying on that mosque veranda?”