“This house belongs to my son, Naira. Bagas has every right to bring whoever he wants to live here,” Mrs. Hartini said sharply.
A few steps behind her, Larasati stood silently. One hand rested on her still-flat stomach, as if unconsciously. She shifted slightly behind Bagas and lowered her head, putting on the face of a wronged woman once again.
Naira didn’t move. Her gaze remained fixed on her mother-in-law.
“We bought this house after we got married, Mrs. Hartini. It’s in both our names. This is my home and my children’s home too. I have every right to refuse to let that woman live here.”
“Live here?” Mrs. Hartini gave a short, mocking laugh. “You still don’t understand?”
She glanced at Larasati, then looked back at Naira.
“Larasati isn’t a guest. She’s Bagas’s legal wife. She’s carrying the heir to the Dirgantara family. A baby boy who will carry on this family line.”
Her gaze grew even colder.
“Something you’ve never been able to give him in all these years.”
Those words struck Ratih harder than anyone else.
The fifteen-year-old girl stepped out from beside the minivan, then hurried over to Kirana. Her breathing came fast. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her father’s face.
“Dad, you want that woman to live in our house?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Bagas fell silent for a moment. He turned his gaze toward the road, avoiding his second daughter’s eyes.
“Get in the car, Ratih. Go to school. Don’t get involved in your parents’ business.”
“Answer my question, Dad!” Ratih shouted. Both her hands clenched into fists. “Do you really want to replace Mom with that woman?”
“Don’t be disrespectful, Ratih!” Bagas snapped as he stepped closer. His jaw tightened, and his face flushed with anger.
Before Bagas could get any closer, Kirana immediately stepped in front of Ratih. She pulled her sister behind her, then stared at her father without blinking.
“Don’t yell at Ratih, Dad,” she said firmly. “You’re the one who brought all this chaos into our home.”
“You two really have no manners,” Mrs. Hartini sneered, shaking her head slowly. “Naira, is this how you raised your children? They dare to yell at their own father in front of everyone. No wonder Bagas needs a son to fix this family.”
Naira’s chest heaved as she held back her anger. Her hands were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
For years, she had chosen to stay silent. But not today.
“My children know how to respect people who actually deserve respect, Mrs. Hartini,” Naira shot back. “They’re angry because someone is invading their home. Their father brought in the woman who’s been draining tens of millions from the factory every month to buy jewelry.”
Bagas’s expression immediately turned tense. His jaw hardened, and the veins in his neck stood out.
Beside him, Larasati looked up with widened eyes. Her face appeared shocked by the accusation.
Mrs. Hartini snorted softly, completely unfazed.
“That factory money is Bagas’s money. He’s the one running the company. It’s up to him what he wants to spend it on, including his wife. Larasati is pregnant and needs proper care. Don’t be stingy with your child’s blessings, Naira. Learn to accept reality.”
Naira stared at her mother-in-law without blinking. Her chest felt like it was burning.
Their factory had nearly failed to make its bank payments the previous month. Naira had stayed up late devising strategies to keep production running. She had persuaded suppliers to give them more time. She had cut costs wherever she could to keep the company from collapsing.
Meanwhile, company funds were being used to buy jewelry for Bagas’s mistress.
“That factory is still standing today because I’m the one holding it together behind the scenes, Mrs. Hartini,” Naira said. “Your son only shows up to sign papers, plays golf with the wrong people, and leaves me to clean up the mess in his books.”
“Naira!” Bagas shouted. He pointed a finger at his wife’s face. “Watch your mouth when you’re talking to my mother! You’re just my wife. Don’t act like you run my company!”
“That’s enough, Gas. Let her talk,” Mrs. Hartini calmly interrupted, raising a hand to stop her son.
Her gaze turned back to Naira.
“A woman who fails to give her husband a son will always find ways to cover up her shortcomings. All she wants is validation.”
The words struck Naira squarely in the chest.
On the porch, Swara’s violin case slipped from her hands.
Thud.
The sound of it hitting the tiled floor made everyone turn.
Swara stood trembling. Her shoulders rose and fell as the tears she had been holding back finally broke free. The twelve-year-old youngest daughter could no longer bear hearing her grandmother insult her mother.
Naira turned around at once. She hurried to Swara, then dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms tightly around her petite daughter. She could clearly feel Swara’s erratic heartbeat against her chest.
“Mom…” Swara whispered between sobs. Her fingers clutched Naira’s sweater. “I don’t want that woman to live here.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Mom’s here,” Naira whispered, stroking her daughter’s back again and again.
Then she turned toward Kirana and Ratih, who were still standing stiffly.
“Come here. Stand behind Mom. No one gets in that car.”
Kirana nodded. She immediately took Ratih’s hand and led her up onto the porch. All three daughters now stood close together behind Naira.
Naira slowly rose to her feet. When she faced the yard again, her expression had changed. There was no hesitation left, much less any willingness to compromise.
Seeing things begin to calm down, Larasati stepped toward Mrs. Hartini.
“Mrs. Hartini, if Ms. Naira really objects, I can go back to the apartment for now,” she said softly. “I don’t want this family to keep fighting. I feel sorry for Bagas.”
Bagas immediately grabbed Larasati’s arm.
“No. You’re not going anywhere. You’re my wife. Your place is here.”
A faint smile appeared on Mrs. Hartini’s face. She then turned toward the taxi driver, who was still standing near the trunk.
“Put those suitcases inside.”
The driver hesitated. His gaze shifted between Naira and Bagas. Only after Bagas slipped a hundred-thousand-rupiah bill into his hand did he nod slowly and pull the suitcases toward the porch.
The suitcase wheels scraped against the floor again.
Naira stepped forward until she stood directly on the first step, blocking the way to the entrance.
“I already told you, not a single one of that woman’s belongings is coming into my house.”
Her voice was quiet, but full of menace.
“Move, Naira!”
Bagas approached with long strides. Without hesitation, he grabbed Naira’s arm and shoved her aside.
Naira stumbled. Her shoulder slammed into a stone pillar, sending pain shooting through her left arm.
For the first time, Bagas used violence against his wife… to clear the way for his new wife’s belongings.
“Dad!” Ratih screamed.
She instinctively started to run to Naira, but Kirana grabbed her shoulder first.
“Don’t, Ratih,” she whispered.
Naira straightened herself again. She raised a hand, signaling for all three of her daughters to stay where they were.
Her eyes never left Bagas.
At that moment, Naira knew her husband had made his choice.
With the entrance now clear, the taxi driver quickly lifted the first suitcase and carried it over the threshold. Aunt Inah could only step back, powerless to do anything as the pink suitcase entered the living room.
Larasati walked slowly behind him. The scent of her jasmine perfume filled the porch once again.
As she passed Naira, she cast her a brief glance, then gave her a faint, nearly imperceptible smile.
The smile of a winner.
Without saying a word, she walked into the house.
Mrs. Hartini followed behind her. But she stopped on the top step, directly in front of Naira and her three grandchildren.
The morning wind fluttered the hem of her maroon tunic. Her gaze remained cold, as if she couldn’t see her son’s family falling apart right before her eyes.
“Starting today,” she said firmly, “you’ll all be living under the same roof. So don’t cause any more trouble.”