Arga only found out that Lina went to church every Sunday after they'd been getting close for almost two months.
Not because Lina had hidden it.
Arga had simply never asked.
Saturday night, they were eating martabak in the car when Lina checked the time.
“Don’t ask me to go anywhere early tomorrow.”
Arga chewed.
“Why?”
“I have plans.”
“Work?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Lina took a piece of martabak.
“Church.”
Arga paused for a moment.
“Oh.”
Lina turned to him.
“That’s all you’ve got?”
Arga shrugged.
“What else am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you waiting for me to say amen?”
Lina laughed.
“No.”
Arga went back to eating.
The conversation moved on to something else.
The martabak being too sweet.
Dimas having just gone through a breakup.
Lina having to present to a client the following week.
They didn’t talk about religion that night.
And at the time, Arga thought that was normal.
They’d only been seeing each other for two months.
They weren’t dating yet.
They’d never said they liked each other.
They had no reason to discuss anything that far ahead.
At least, that’s what he thought.
The following Sunday, Lina’s car was in the shop.
At seven in the morning, Arga’s phone vibrated.
He was still asleep.
Ga.
Arga opened one eye.
Hm?
You up?
Now I am.
Lina sent a laughing emoji.
Arga:
Why?
Can I ask you a favor?
What?
A long pause.
Then:
Can you drive me?
Arga sat up.
Where?
Church.
He looked at the time.
7:08.
What time?
Nine.
Arga typed:
Okay.
Lina’s reply came quickly.
Seriously?
Yeah.
Am I bothering you?
You already did by waking me up.
Sorry.
I’ll be ready at eight.
Arga put down his phone.
Then stared at the ceiling.
Sunday.
Seven in the morning.
He pulled the blanket back over himself.
Five seconds later,
he got up.
At 8:12, Lina got into the car.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry.”
“You said eight.”
“Twelve minutes.”
Arga looked at her.
“Your principles about time are fascinating.”
Lina fastened her seat belt.
“Do you want to complain or drive?”
“Complain while I drive.”
“Multitasking.”
Arga started the car.
Lina looked more put-together than usual.
A cream blouse.
A long black skirt.
Her hair left loose.
No oversized tote bag stuffed with a laptop.
Just a small purse.
Arga glanced at her once.
Lina caught him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why were you looking?”
“I’m not used to seeing you dressed up.”
“Rude.”
“I mean, you look different.”
“Different bad?”
“Different.”
“Safe answer.”
Arga smiled.
He followed the map directions on Lina’s phone.
The roads were quieter on Sunday morning.
They arrived in less than thirty minutes.
The church wasn’t very big.
There were already plenty of cars in front of the gate.
Arga slowed down.
“Should I drop you here?”
Lina looked outside.
“Up front is fine.”
Arga pulled forward a little.
When the car stopped, Lina didn’t open the door right away.
She held on to her seat belt.
“Ga.”
“Hm?”
“You’re not bothered?”
Arga furrowed his brow.
“By what?”
Lina nodded toward the outside.
“By driving me here.”
Arga looked at the church.
Then at Lina.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would I be bothered?”
Lina fell silent.
Arga understood what she was really asking a few seconds later.
He rested his hand on the steering wheel.
“Lin.”
“Hm?”
“I know you’re Christian.”
Lina looked at him.
“Well, yeah.”
“And you know I’m Muslim.”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
Lina lowered her gaze for a moment.
“It’s fine.”
Arga waited.
Lina opened the door.
“I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
“Okay.”
She got out.
After two steps, Lina came back to the window.
“You want to wait?”
“How long?”
“An hour and a half.”
Arga immediately shook his head.
“No.”
Lina laughed.
“Wow, honest.”
“I’m going to find breakfast.”
“Will you come pick me up afterward?”
“Sure.”
Lina smiled.
“Okay.”
She walked inside.
Arga watched until the woman disappeared among the crowd.
Then he drove away.
He didn’t feel strange.
There was no major clash in his head.
Just one fact he’d already known, but that felt a little more real that morning.
Lina had a world he didn’t enter.
And for the time being, Arga felt that was okay.
Arga had chicken porridge two streets away.
He sat alone at a plastic table, scrolling through his phone.
Dimas sent him a message.
Game?
Arga:
No.
Where are you?
Arga looked at his bowl of porridge.
Out.
With who?
Alone.
Dimas:
Liar.
Arga didn’t reply.
Ten minutes later, another message came in.
Lina?
Arga locked his phone.
Sometimes not replying was far more effective.
At 10:30, Lina texted him.
Done.
Arga replied:
Five minutes.
He went back to where he’d dropped her off.
Lina was already standing in front of the minimarket across the street.
When she saw Arga’s car, she crossed the street.
As soon as she got in, she held up a plastic bag.
“What’s that?”
“Bread.”
“For?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because you drove me earlier.”
Arga took it.
“My driver’s fee?”
“Before you start complaining.”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
“Your face is always complaining.”
Arga opened the bag.
There were two pieces of bread.
“One for you?”
“No.”
“Why two?”
“Two for you.”
Arga looked at Lina.
“That’s unusually nice of you.”
“Sometimes.”
Arga smiled.
They went to get lunch.
And that was it.
They didn’t talk about the sermon.
Arga didn’t ask.
Lina didn’t tell him anything either.
Back then, they were still very good at letting certain things pass without touching them.
A few days later, it was Lina’s turn to find out.
They were on their way home after dinner.
Traffic was pretty bad.
The clock read 6:20.
Arga checked the time several times.
Lina, who was changing the song, noticed.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No.”
“Then why do you keep checking the time?”
Arga was silent for a moment.
Then he turned the car onto a small side street.
Lina looked outside.
“Where are we going?”
“Just a minute.”
The car stopped in front of a mosque.
Arga turned off the engine.
“I’m going to pray.”
“Oh.”
Lina immediately reached for her bag.
Arga turned to her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m getting out too.”
“Why?”
“To wait.”
“Stay in the car.”
“It’s hot.”
“I can leave the AC on.”
“Burning through your gas?”
Arga laughed.
“Fine.”
They got out.
Lina sat on a bench near the courtyard while Arga went inside.
About fifteen minutes later, Arga came out.
Lina was playing with an orange cat that had appeared from who-knew-where.
“You made a new friend.”
Lina looked up.
“He came to me.”
Arga crouched down.
The cat immediately moved away.
Lina laughed.
“He doesn’t like you.”
“And he doesn’t even know me.”
“Instinct.”
Arga stood.
“Come on.”
In the car, Lina wiped her hands with a wet wipe.
“Ga.”
“Hm?”
“Every day?”
“Pray?”
“Yeah.”
Arga nodded.
“I’m supposed to.”
“Supposed to?”
“Sometimes I miss it when I’m working.”
“Oh.”
Arga glanced at her.
“That’s all you’ve got?”
Lina laughed.
“Karma.”
They looked at each other.
Then laughed.
Maybe that conversation should have been a doorway.
One of them could have asked:
How important is religion to you?
What’s your family like about it?
If we get serious someday, do you think it’ll be difficult?
But they hadn’t gotten there yet.
Or maybe they didn’t want to.
Lina went back to choosing a song.
Arga went back to driving.
The conversation ended.
Two weeks later, Arga realized he’d started looking forward to Fridays.
Not because of the weekend.
Because Friday was usually the day Lina got off work early.
They often ate together after work.
Sometimes for only an hour.
Sometimes until night.
Their relationship was starting to drift into strange territory.
Too close to call them ordinary friends.
But neither of them dared to change its name.
Dimas called him an idiot.
“You go out every week.”
“Yeah.”
“You text every day.”
“Not every day.”
Dimas looked at Arga’s phone, which had just vibrated.
Lina’s name appeared on the screen.
Dimas looked at Arga.
Arga turned the phone facedown.
“Okay. Almost every day.”
“You like her?”
Arga took a drink.
“I don’t know.”
Dimas nodded.
“Then you do.”
“What kind of logic is that?”
“If you didn’t, your answer would’ve been ‘no.’”
Arga fell silent.
Dimas smiled, satisfied.
“See?”
“Go do some work.”
That night, Lina asked him to meet her at the minimarket near her office.
Not exactly a romantic spot.
They sat outside, drinking from plastic cups.
Lina looked exhausted.
“Did you just cry?” Arga asked.
Lina looked at him immediately.
“No.”
“Your eyes are red.”
“I haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“Liar.”
Lina poked at the ice with her straw.
Arga didn’t press her.
They were quiet for several minutes.
Vehicles passed along the main road.
A courier went in and out of the minimarket.
Finally, Lina said, “Mom called earlier.”
Arga waited.
“Did you fight?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“She just asked when I was going to stop freelancing.”
“Why do you have to stop?”
“She says I’m tired.”
“You are tired.”
Lina looked at him.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Mine.”
Lina gave a small laugh.
Arga continued, “If you like it, keep doing it. But don’t say you’re not tired.”
“I like it.”
“Then there you go.”
“It’s that simple?”
“For now.”
Lina stared at the road.
“Sometimes I’m jealous of you.”
“Why?”
“You make it seem so easy to say, ‘Then there you go.’”
Arga furrowed his brow.
“Except it isn’t.”
“It isn’t?”
“Not everything.”
Lina turned her cup in her hands.
“Like what?”
Arga almost answered.
There was one thing that had been bothering him for days.
About them.
About why every time Lina went home, Arga felt the day grow lonelier.
About why he’d started memorizing the woman’s schedule.
About why, whenever Lina said she was tired, Arga wanted to come to her.
But he only said, “A lot of things.”
Lina nodded.
“Okay.”
They fell silent again.
Then Lina said, “Ga.”
“Hm?”
“What are we?”
Arga nearly choked on his drink.
Lina watched his reaction.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s a normal question.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m asking you.”
Arga leaned back.
“What do you want us to be?”
Lina wrinkled her nose.
“Why are you turning it around?”
“Afraid to answer?”
“Wow, honest.”
“You said we weren’t allowed to lie.”
Lina laughed softly.
Then her gaze dropped to the table.
“I’m scared too.”
Arga stopped.
It might have been the first time they both admitted they were afraid of the same thing.
“I like you,” Arga said.
Lina didn’t look at him right away.
Arga continued, “I think.”
Lina looked up.
“You think?”
“I like you.”
“Don’t say ‘I think.’”
“Okay. I like you.”
Lina held back a smile.
“What about you?”
Arga asked.
“What?”
“Do you like me?”
Lina looked at her straw.
“Guess.”
“If I have to guess, I’m going home.”
“Fine, go home.”
Arga stood up as if he meant it.
Lina immediately caught the hem of his shirt.
“Hey.”
Arga looked at her hand.
Lina realized what she’d done too.
She quickly let go.
Arga sat back down.
“So?”
Lina sighed.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Yes, what?”
Lina shot him a sharp look.
“I like you.”
Arga smiled.
Lina pointed at him.
“Don’t smile like that.”
“Like what?”
“It’s annoying.”
That night, they didn’t officially start dating.
There was no date.
No “Will you be my girlfriend?”
They just went home with something that now had a name.
Liking each other.
For the time being, that was enough.
A few weeks later, their relationship finally changed in the most ordinary way.
Arga picked Lina up after work.
They ate.
Lina fell asleep in the car on the way home.
When they reached her house, Arga woke her.
“Lin.”
Lina opened her eyes.
“Hm?”
“We’re here.”
“Oh.”
She sat up straight, still half-asleep.
Her hand searched for her bag.
Then she said, “Text me when you wake up tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“You want to check if I’m alive?”
“Yeah.”
Arga laughed.
Lina opened the door.
“Ga.”
“Hm?”
“From now on, if anyone asks…”
She stopped.
Arga waited.
“…just tell them I’m your girlfriend.”
Arga fell silent.
Lina immediately got out.
“Hey.”
Lina looked back from outside.
“Why do you get to decide?”
“Too late.”
“Lina.”
She was already walking toward the gate.
Arga rolled down the window.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Lina turned around, walking backward.
“Then say so now.”
Arga opened his mouth.
Lina waited.
Arga smiled.
“Text me when you wake up tomorrow.”
Lina smiled too.
“Okay.”
The gate closed.
Just like that.
No pretty date.
No flowers.
No pictures.
Nothing dramatic they could tell people when asked how they’d started dating.
They simply agreed.
And for several months afterward, everything felt easy.
Until the things they never asked about began waiting for them up ahead.
Arga knew Lina went to church.
Lina knew Arga prayed.
They knew each other’s families had their own ways of seeing life.
They’d known all of that from the beginning.
What they didn’t know was how far two people could walk together while continuing to pretend that the road ahead would never split in two.