Monday morning, at 8:12, Lina had already opened the same email three times.
Accept Offer.
Decline Offer.
Two buttons.
Two words.
There was no third button to say, Wait, my life is a mess right now.
Lina closed her laptop.
Opened it again.
Closed it.
She was still in her Jakarta bedroom, having moved nowhere yet, but her desk already felt like a transit lounge.
Her phone sat beside the laptop.
There were no new messages from Arga.
Lina checked the time.
8:13.
Yesterday, Arga had said he would call.
He hadn't said when.
A mistake.
Lina should have known the man could turn one simple sentence into an entire day of waiting.
She stood up.
Made coffee.
Went back to her room.
8:27.
Nothing.
The night before, Arga got home to his mother's house at a quarter to ten.
Ratna was watching TV when Arga walked in.
"You said you were having dinner."
"Sorry."
"At this hour, it's called a midnight snack."
Arga set down his car keys.
"Is there still rice?"
Ratna looked at her son.
"There is."
"Tempeh?"
"There is."
Arga walked into the kitchen.
Ratna turned off the TV.
That was a bad sign.
Arga sat at the dining table and lifted the food cover.
Ratna stood across from him.
"What do you want to tell me?"
Arga's hand stopped near his plate.
"Who said I want to tell you something?"
"I've been your mother for over thirty years. You think I don't know my own son's face?"
Arga smiled faintly.
"You're being dramatic."
Ratna sat down.
"Who is she?"
Arga looked over.
"Why do you jump straight to who?"
"When it's work, you usually start complaining the second you walk through the door."
Arga didn't argue.
He took some rice.
Ratna waited.
Arga deliberately took one bite first.
Then two.
"Her name is Lina."
Ratna went quiet.
Arga looked down at his plate.
"It's been three years."
The spoon Ratna had been using to fiddle with the container lid stopped.
"Three years?"
"Yeah."
"Your girlfriend?"
Arga nodded.
Ratna leaned back.
"Why are you only telling me now?"
Arga knew that question was coming.
He still didn't have a good answer.
"I wasn't ready."
"You weren't ready for three years?"
"Yeah."
Ratna stared at him for a long moment.
"Who is she?"
"She works in design."
"That's not what I mean."
Arga stopped eating.
Ratna didn't need to explain.
Arga sighed.
"She's Christian."
The silence that followed didn't last long.
Maybe only four or five seconds.
But it was long enough to make the refrigerator sound loud.
Ratna lowered her gaze.
"Oh."
Arga almost laughed.
Today, everyone seemed to have that one word.
Ratna asked, "Does her family know?"
"I think so."
"You think so?"
"They know I exist."
"And they know you're Muslim?"
"Yeah."
Ratna nodded.
Arga waited for her to get angry.
It didn't happen.
There was no shouting.
No immediate, We're ending this now.
Instead, Ratna picked up her glass of water.
"So what do you want?"
Arga looked at his mother.
"I don't know."
Ratna shook her head immediately.
"See?"
"What?"
"That's why I'm angry."
Arga frowned.
"Not because of Lina?"
"I haven't even met Lina."
"Then what?"
"You've been with someone for three years, and your answer is still I don't know."
Arga set down his spoon.
"It's not that simple."
"I didn't say it was simple."
"If it were simple, I would've told you a long time ago."
Ratna looked at him.
"Or you didn't tell me because as long as you didn't talk about it, you could pretend there was no problem?"
Arga fell silent.
Ratna knew him too well.
It was annoying.
"She got a job in Singapore," Arga said at last.
"When?"
"Next month, if she accepts it."
"Is it good?"
"It's good."
"So?"
Arga rubbed his face.
"She asked if we're over if she leaves."
"What did you say?"
Arga went quiet again.
Ratna gave a short laugh.
"You said you didn't know?"
Arga looked at her.
"How did you know?"
"Because ever since you were little, that's what you say when you're scared."
Arga leaned back.
Ratna folded her arms.
"Do you love her?"
Arga didn't need to think.
"Yeah."
"Then why are all your answers so difficult?"
"Because loving someone doesn't make the problem disappear."
Ratna was silent.
It was the first sentence that night neither of them immediately answered.
Arga looked at the table.
"I can't tell her not to go just because I'm scared."
"Why not?"
"Because if she stays and we still don't have an answer, then I'll be the one who made her lose the opportunity."
Ratna gave a small nod.
"That makes sense."
Arga looked at his mother.
"But?"
"But you always hide behind what makes sense."
Arga fell silent.
Ratna continued, "I'm not saying tell her to stay. I'm not saying your relationship is guaranteed to work. I don't even know what to say about your different beliefs yet."
Arga lowered his head.
"But if you love someone, the least she deserves is to know you're afraid of losing her."
Arga said nothing.
Ratna stood up.
She picked up the empty plate from the table.
Before heading to the kitchen, she stopped.
"One more thing."
Arga looked over.
"If you knew from the beginning it would be this complicated, why did you keep going?"
It was the simplest question.
And the hardest one.
Arga looked at his phone screen.
Lina's chat was at the top.
He answered quietly.
"Because back then, it still felt far away."
Ratna nodded.
"And now?"
Arga stared at his phone.
"Now it's right in front of us."
Ratna didn't offer any more advice.
She carried the plate to the kitchen.
Arga sat alone.
For the first time in three years, the problem sounded different when he said it out loud.
More real.
And not one part of it disappeared after being spoken.
At 9:40 Monday morning, Lina took a second shower.
Not because she needed one.
Because she didn't know what else to do while waiting.
At ten, she opened her laptop again.
The email was still there.
Of course it was.
She read the contract.
Read the salary.
Read the start date.
Read everything until the words lost their meaning.
At 10:18, her phone rang.
It wasn't Arga.
It was Daniel.
Daniel: Have you answered the offer yet?
Lina stared at the message.
Not yet.
Daniel: The deadline's today, right?
Yeah.
Daniel: I'm not going to give you advice.
Good.
Daniel: But if you need someone to say that both our moms are equally complicated, I'm available.
Lina smiled.
Thanks.
Daniel: Good luck.
The conversation ended.
Lina looked at Arga's name in her chat list.
He wasn't online.
10:37.
She typed:
So, are you calling or not?
Delete.
Where are you?
Delete.
Finally, she set her phone facedown.
At 11:03, Arga left the office.
He had already tried calling twice from his desk—in his head.
He had never actually pressed the button.
Dimas had watched him pace around since morning.
Finally, he asked, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
Dimas looked at Arga's untouched coffee.
"You've been opening WhatsApp and closing WhatsApp all morning."
Arga slipped his phone into his pocket.
"I'm working."
"Who is it?"
Arga glanced at him.
Dimas raised his hands.
"Okay, never mind."
Arga grabbed his jacket.
"Where are you going?"
"Out for a minute."
"Lunch isn't for another hour."
"Dim."
"Yeah, yeah."
Arga walked toward the elevator.
Dimas called out before the doors closed.
"If you need to talk about something important, don't prepare a presentation in your head first."
Arga stared at him.
The elevator doors closed.
Damn.
Everyone was suddenly acting like a philosopher.
Arga called from the parking lot behind the office.
Lina answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
Lina's voice sounded too quick.
Like the phone had been in her hand the whole time.
"Lin."
"Hm."
Arga checked the time.
11:14.
"Did you answer?"
"Not yet."
"Oh."
Lina sighed immediately.
"Don't say oh."
Arga almost laughed.
"Sorry."
"Why are you only calling now?"
"I..."
He stopped.
Dimas was right.
Every sentence he'd been arranging disappeared.
Lina waited.
"I told Mom last night."
There was no sound for several seconds.
"Everything?"
"Yeah."
"About me?"
"Yeah."
"About..."
"Yeah."
Arga knew what Lina hadn't finished saying.
"Then?"
"She got angry."
Lina was silent.
"Not at you," Arga added quickly.
"Oh."
"See? Now it's your turn."
Lina laughed softly.
The tension eased a little.
"How did it go?"
"She asked why I was only telling her after three years."
"What did you say?"
"I don't know."
Lina laughed again.
"Arga."
"What?"
"Seriously."
"I really didn't know."
Arga leaned against the wall of the parking lot.
A motorcycle passed by.
He waited for the engine noise to fade.
"Lin."
"Hm?"
"Take the job in Singapore."
Silence.
Arga could hear the AC on Lina's end.
"What?"
"Accept the offer."
Lina didn't answer.
Arga continued before he lost his nerve.
"I don't want you to turn it down because of me."
"This again?"
"Wait."
"Ar—"
"I'm not finished."
Lina fell silent.
Arga stared at the ground.
"I really don't have an answer about us."
"Great."
"Lin."
"What do you expect? You say this is an important call and open with that."
"I'm scared."
Lina stopped.
Arga continued, more quietly.
"I'm scared you'll leave."
There was no answer.
"I'm scared you'll build a life there and I'll just become someone you call when you have time."
Arga rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm scared we'll get tired. I'm scared you'll meet someone who's easier. I'm scared that one day you'll realize your life would be so much simpler if you weren't with me."
"Arga..."
"But I'm also scared that if you stay just because of me, five years from now you'll look at me and think about the life you should've had."
Lina didn't speak.
For the first time, Arga felt like his words were completely exposed.
There was no logic left to hide behind.
"I don't know which would be worse."
Lina's voice finally came through.
"Why are you only saying this now?"
Arga closed his eyes.
"Because I'm an idiot."
"Good answer."
"Mom said more or less the same thing."
Lina laughed softly.
Arga laughed too.
Then they fell silent again.
"So you want me to go?" Lina asked.
The question made Arga look up at the parking-lot ceiling.
"No."
"Then?"
"I want you to take the job."
"That's the same thing."
"No, it isn't."
"What's the difference?"
"If I could choose based only on what I wanted, I'd tell you to stay in Jakarta."
Lina was silent.
Arga continued, "But that's not the only thing that matters."
Lina took a breath.
"Then what about us?"
"I don't want us to end."
"What if we do long-distance?"
"We try."
"What if we can't handle it?"
Arga stopped.
In the past, he would've answered questions like that with I don't know.
This time, he still didn't know.
But he tried not to hide.
"If we can't handle it, we talk about it."
"What about our families?"
"We talk about it."
"What if we still can't make it work in the end?"
Arga was silent for longer.
Lina didn't interrupt.
"I can't promise how it ends," he said at last.
"Arga..."
"But I can promise I don't want to run from the question anymore."
Lina didn't answer.
Arga could picture her face.
Her fingers playing with the edge of the table.
Her lips pressed together.
Her eyes looking somewhere else.
"I don't know if that's enough," Arga continued.
"We don't know yet."
"Fair."
Lina sighed.
"What time is it?"
Arga checked his watch.
11:27.
"The deadline's still a long way off."
"I'm not asking about the deadline."
"Oh."
"Arga."
"11:27."
Lina laughed softly.
"Okay."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Arga waited.
Then Lina said, "I'm scared too."
"I know."
"Don't act like you know everything."
"Sorry."
"But yeah."
Arga smiled faintly.
At ten to twelve, Lina sat in front of her laptop again.
Arga was still on the phone.
They didn't talk about anything important anymore.
Strangely, after such a huge conversation, they ended up talking about lunch.
"Have you eaten?" Lina asked.
"Not yet."
"Eat."
"Later."
"Don't say later."
"You first."
"I'm not hungry."
"Because you're stressed."
"Don't be a smart-ass."
"You always lose your appetite when you're stressed."
Lina looked at the screen.
Accept Offer.
Her hand rested on the trackpad.
"Arga."
"Hm?"
"I'm clicking it now."
Arga fell silent.
Lina waited.
"Yeah."
"Yeah what?"
"Click it."
Lina didn't move.
"Are you sure?"
"This is your decision."
"What if I regret it?"
"Blame yourself."
Lina laughed.
"So helpful."
"I can listen if you need to complain."
"Much better."
Lina stared at the button.
One click.
Easy.
One click and her life would change addresses.
She placed her index finger on the trackpad.
"Arga."
"Hm?"
"Will you pick me up at the airport later?"
Arga answered immediately.
"Yeah."
"If I come home."
"Yeah."
"Don't say, We'll see what my schedule looks like."
"I won't."
"Don't be late."
Arga smiled on the other end of the call.
"I won't."
Lina clicked.
Click.
The page loaded for several seconds.
Then the words appeared:
THANK YOU FOR ACCEPTING OUR OFFER.
Lina stared at them.
There was no music.
No huge wave of relief.
No regret, either.
Just a heartbeat that was slightly faster than before.
"Done," she said.
"Done?"
"Yeah."
Arga was quiet for a moment.
"Congrats."
Lina leaned back in her chair.
"I'm scared."
"Me too."
"I'm the one moving."
"I'm still allowed to be scared."
Lina looked at the ceiling.
A small smile appeared before she realized it.
"One month."
"Yeah."
"Arga."
"Hm?"
"We have one month."
Arga knew what she meant.
One month before the distance.
One month before their schedules changed.
One month before they could no longer resolve a fight by driving to each other's homes.
"Yeah."
"Let's not pretend we're fine for the next month."
Arga was silent.
"Okay."
"If you're angry, say so."
"Okay."
"If you're scared, say so."
Arga smiled.
"That's a lot."
"Arga."
"Yeah."
"Promise?"
The word made him stop.
Promises always sounded too big for something he couldn't be sure about yet.
But this time, Lina wasn't asking for a promise about marriage.
She wasn't asking about the future.
She was only asking for honesty for thirty days.
"Yeah," Arga said. "I promise."
Lina nodded, even though Arga couldn't see her.
The call ended a few minutes later.
Lina remained seated.
The confirmation email was still open.
Under the desk, her feet were cold.
Her phone buzzed.
Arga sent a message.
Arga: Don't forget to eat.
Lina smiled.
Lina: You too.
She closed her laptop.
That Monday, Lina officially chose Singapore.
But the real decision, the much bigger one, wasn't in any email.
For the first time in three years, Arga and Lina agreed to stop waiting for their problems to resolve themselves.
They still didn't know how.
They didn't know whether they would succeed.
They only knew one thing.
In thirty days, Lina would leave.
And starting today, their time finally had a number.