🌸 Prologue 🌸
And in the end, I lost him... without a goodbye, without a trace. 🌸
"That's enough. Just let him go. It means you need to find someone better. I know you're sad, hurt, and disappointed, but he's already someone else's—he even has kids! Seriously, how can someone wear a mask of fake wisdom like that? I'm so pissed."
Once again, Caca was the only person I could pour my heart out to.
My name is Zainab Salsabila Khairunisa. I'm twenty-six years old, and I'm still single. I'm a teacher at an Integrated Islamic Elementary School and a student working toward my master's degree in elementary education in West Java. I'm the third of four siblings and the only girl among my three brothers. Even though I grew up with three boys, I was anything but spoiled.
"Ca... I'm tired," I whispered. "You know I'm not the one who throws herself at men, right? They're the ones who come after me, and then they just end up playing with my feelings."
The afternoon sun had just disappeared behind the school building where Zainab taught. Three months earlier, the classroom had already emptied out, leaving only the soft creak of the fan and the tapping of Zainab's fingers on her laptop.
🌸This was where it all began—with an incoming social-media message from a man named Farhan. A man whom an acquaintance had introduced as someone "very mature and religious."
"Ms. Zainab, I'm sorry to disturb you. I admire your writing about children's education. It's rare to find a young woman with such a clear vision for the future."
That first message was written in language so polite and composed. There was no sense of haste, much less any cheap flirting. Farhan knew exactly how to knock on the heart of a teacher like Zainab.
Over the following days, their conversations flowed warmly. Farhan always presented himself as a wise listener, a mature man in his thirties who seemed to have already settled all his worldly affairs.
"Life is short, Zainab. I'm no longer looking for puppy love, but for someone to discuss things with, exchange ideas with, and socialize with in a way that brings blessings. I see that potential in you," Farhan said one evening over the phone, his voice calm and authoritative.
Zainab, who was exhausted from dividing her time between her master's thesis and her teaching duties, felt as if she'd found an oasis. Farhan never made demands. Whenever Zainab complained about school, he was always there with his "wise" advice.
🌸"Be patient, okay? Allah is elevating your rank. Don't complain. A strong woman like you can definitely get through this."
His words were beautiful, carefully wrapped in quotations about ethics and religion. Zainab felt valued and protected, and little by little, she placed an enormous amount of trust in him. Farhan had even hinted that he was serious about meeting Zainab's parents after she finished her master's thesis.
🌸Until one weekend.
Zainab's messages showed only one check mark. He didn't answer her calls. On the first day, Zainab thought Farhan was busy with work. On the second day, worry began to creep in—had something happened to him? Had the man been in an accident?
🌸On the third day, the truth came not from Farhan's lips, but from a photo post on a woman's account that happened to appear in her social-media Explore feed. It showed a small, happy family celebrating their first child's birthday, complete with congratulations on their fourth wedding anniversary.
🌸There stood Farhan, smiling warmly as he embraced his wife, wearing the exact same smile he had shown Zainab for the past three months.