Lina's mom knew about Arga long before Lina admitted it.
Not everything.
But enough.
A mother doesn't need to read her child's messages to know when one name keeps coming up too often.
Arga had driven Lina home and walked her to the door close to midnight.
He had waited in the car while it rained.
He had shown up with food when Lina was sick.
He had picked her up on Sundays after church.
There had been too many "coincidences" for him to be called just a friend.
There was only one thing Mom had been waiting for all this time.
For Lina to say it herself.
And when it finally came out, after dinner with Daniel, Mom didn't feel like she'd won.
She felt late.
The morning after the conversation in the kitchen, Lina came downstairs looking like she hadn't slept.
Mom was making eggs.
Dad was reading the news on his tablet.
No one mentioned Daniel.
No one mentioned Arga.
Lina sat down.
Mom set a plate in front of her.
"Eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat."
Lina picked up her fork.
Dad didn't look up.
"When do you have to answer Singapore?"
"Today."
Mom paused.
"Are you taking it?"
Lina stared at her eggs.
"I don't know yet."
Dad finally looked over.
"Is the job good?"
"Good."
"The salary?"
"Good."
"The company?"
"Good."
Dad nodded.
"So what's not good?"
Lina didn't answer.
Mom knew the answer.
Dad probably did too.
But that morning, no one said Arga's name.
Lina ate half an egg.
Then she went back upstairs to her room.
Mom watched her back until it disappeared up the stairs.
Dad said, "You're pushing her too hard."
Mom turned to him.
"I am?"
"Daniel."
Mom picked up the empty plate.
"I just introduced them."
Dad looked at her.
"That's parent-speak."
"What?"
"'I just introduced them.'"
Mom knew her husband was teasing her.
She didn't respond.
Dad continued, "If Lina's still with Arga, what are you going to do?"
Mom turned on the faucet.
"I don't know."
Dad nodded.
"Then don't force her to have an answer when we don't have one either."
Mom shut off the water a little too hard.
"I'm not forcing her."
Dad went back to his tablet.
"If you say so."
Annoying.
That afternoon, Lina called from her room.
Mom didn't mean to overhear her name.
"Ga."
Just one syllable.
But it was enough.
Lina's voice changed when she talked to Arga.
Faster when she was annoyed.
Quieter when she was scared.
Freer than when she talked to her family.
Mom wasn't eavesdropping.
At least, not intentionally.
She was only passing by on her way to the back room when she heard:
"I'm scared too."
Mom stopped.
Then she kept walking.
A few minutes later, Lina came downstairs.
Her eyes were a little red.
Not like she'd just cried.
More like she'd just held something back.
Mom didn't ask.
Lina opened the refrigerator.
Took out some water.
Then she said, "Mom."
"Hm?"
"I'm taking the Singapore offer."
Mom turned.
Lina stood in front of the open refrigerator.
As if the sentence was too big to deliver while sitting down.
Mom smiled faintly.
"Congratulations."
Lina didn't return the smile.
"Arga told me to take it."
Mom went quiet.
That wasn't a sentence she'd expected to be part of the conversation.
"He said that?"
"Yeah."
"Are you happy?"
Lina shrugged.
"Sad too."
Mom closed the refrigerator door that was still open.
"Why sad?"
Lina looked at her.
Mom immediately knew it was a stupid question.
"Yeah... Mom knows."
Lina took a glass.
For a few seconds, the only sound was running water.
"Mom," Lina said, "I don't want Daniel."
"Mom never said you had to be with Daniel."
"But you deliberately introduced us."
"I did."
"Why?"
Mom could have given her a safe answer.
Because Daniel was nice.
Because their families knew each other.
Because there was nothing wrong with being friends.
But after last night, all of that sounded too neat.
"Because I was scared," she said.
Lina stopped.
Mom continued, "When I think about you and Arga years from now... I'm scared."
Lina didn't immediately get defensive.
Maybe because Mom was finally using an honest word.
"I'm not scared of Arga," Mom said. "I barely know him."
"Then what are you scared of?"
"I'm scared you'll reach a point where every choice feels painful."
Lina stared at her glass.
Mom pulled out a chair and sat down.
"You think I haven't seen the way Arga treats you?"
Lina looked up.
"He drives you home. Waits for you. Shows up when you're sick. I know."
"You were paying attention?"
"What, you think I'm blind?"
Lina almost smiled.
Mom continued, "That's exactly why I'm even more scared. He seems like a good person."
"Why?"
"If he were a jerk, it would be easy."
Lina laughed softly.
Mom laughed too.
"Seriously. If he were awful, you could just break up. Done."
Lina lowered her head.
"But he's not."
"See?"
The kitchen grew quiet.
Mom said, "The hard part is when two people are both good, both love each other, but there's something that can't be solved with good intentions alone."
Lina turned her glass in her hands.
"Do you want me to break up with him?"
The question came quietly.
Mom didn't answer right away.
She knew Lina would remember this answer for a long time.
"I want you to stop lying to yourself."
Lina looked at her.
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
"Mom."
Mom sighed.
"If I told you to break up, would you?"
Lina was silent.
"You wouldn't, right?"
Lina lowered her head.
"If I told you to stay together, and you both got hurt later, I couldn't take responsibility for that either."
Lina said nothing.
Mom reached out her hand.
She didn't touch her.
She only placed her palm on the table, close to her daughter's hand.
"I just want you to realize this isn't a problem you can put in a drawer and close."
Lina stared at that hand.
"I know."
"Good."
"But I still want to try."
Mom nodded slowly.
She'd expected that.
It still felt heavy.
"When are you leaving?"
"In thirty days."
"We'll buy you a suitcase."
"Arga's already going to help."
Mom held back her reaction.
Lina noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Mom."
"I'm not used to hearing his name every five minutes."
Lina laughed.
For the first time since the night before, the air in the kitchen didn't feel like a courtroom.
The following week, Mom was folding Lina's clothes when Arga arrived carrying cardboard boxes.
Mom watched from upstairs.
Arga got out of his car with two large boxes.
Lina greeted him out front.
They argued about how to carry the boxes.
Arga kept carrying both.
Lina forcibly took one from him.
Mom watched without realizing it.
Dad passed behind her.
"Is that Arga?"
Mom nodded.
Dad stood beside her for a moment.
"He looks pretty ordinary."
Mom glanced at him.
"What was he supposed to look like?"
"I don't know."
Dad smiled.
"Maybe like a major problem."
Mom said nothing.
That was exactly it.
All this time, Arga had existed in Mom's mind as a problem.
A difference.
A risk.
A question.
Now he was just a man who was about to drop a box in the yard because Lina had stolen one from him.
An ordinary person.
That made everything harder.
At dinner, Mom deliberately told Arga to join them.
Arga sat too straight.
His answers were polite.
Too polite.
Mom almost laughed.
"Do you usually talk to Lina using 'I' and 'you' like this too?" she asked.
Arga stopped chewing.
Lina immediately kicked him under the table.
"Mom."
"What?"
Arga smiled awkwardly.
"No, Auntie."
"See? Relax."
Dad held back a smile.
Lina gave Mom a warning look.
Mom pretended not to notice.
"You work in events?" Dad asked.
"Yeah, sir. Event operations."
"Do you often get home late?"
"Pretty often."
"Lina does too."
"Yeah."
Mom looked at the two of them.
There were plenty of questions she could ask.
About religion.
About the future.
About whether they were serious.
But she didn't that night.
Not because the questions had disappeared.
Because for once, she wanted to get to know Arga without turning their relationship into a debate.
After dinner, Arga helped carry the plates into the kitchen.
"Auntie, where should I put these?"
"Just put them there."
Arga set them down.
Mom said, "Arga."
"Yes, Auntie?"
"If Lina gets stubborn in Singapore, tell me."
From the dining room, Lina called, "I can hear you!"
Mom smiled.
So did Arga.
"Yes, Auntie."
"Don't just say yes. Actually do it."
"I will."
Lina appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"You two formed an alliance fast."
Mom picked up a glass.
"Go pack your bags."
Lina shook her head and left.
Arga was still standing there.
Mom lowered her voice.
"You take care of yourself too."
Arga looked slightly startled.
Then he nodded.
"Yes, Auntie."
Mom didn't say anything else.
After Arga left, Lina went into Mom's room.
"Mom."
"Hm?"
"Why were you so nice tonight?"
Mom, who was brushing her hair, looked at her in the mirror.
"Am I usually mean?"
"No."
"Then?"
Lina sat on the edge of the bed.
"It was just weird."
Mom put down the brush.
"He's polite."
"He's scared."
"It shows."
Lina laughed.
Mom smiled too.
Then Lina said, "Do you still disapprove?"
The question had come back.
Mom looked at her daughter in the mirror.
"Don't make me come up with a quick answer."
Lina fell silent.
Mom turned around.
"It took you three years to tell me."
Lina couldn't argue with that.
Mom sat beside her.
"I can get to know him. That's all for now."
Lina looked at her.
"That's all?"
"For now."
Lina nodded.
Maybe she'd hoped for more.
Maybe she was also afraid Mom might give her more.
Finally, Lina rested her head briefly on Mom's shoulder.
It was a short gesture.
Like when she was little and had just been scolded.
Mom didn't mention it.
She just stayed there.
That night, Mom received a message from Aunt Rina.
Rina: Daniel said Lina's nice, but it looks like they're just friends.
Mom read it.
Then:
Rina: Lina's still with her boyfriend, right?
Mom stared at the screen for a long time.
Once, she might have avoided the question.
Not now.
Mom typed:
Yes.
Rina: The one with different beliefs?
Mom: Yes.
Three dots appeared and lingered.
Mom already knew what the next question would be.
Rina: So what are you going to do?
Mom looked at Lina's bedroom door.
From inside came the sound of a box being dragged.
She typed:
I don't know yet.
Then, after thinking for a moment, added:
But I'm getting to know him.
The message was sent.
Mom set down her phone.
She still didn't approve.
She still hadn't accepted every possibility.
She still didn't know what would happen.
But Arga's name had now sat at their dinner table.
He had a voice.
His own way of getting nervous.
His habit of saying "Yes, Auntie" too quickly.
And maybe there was a big difference between being afraid of a problem and getting to know the person caught up in it.