The sound of music, laughter, and congratulations filled the entire room. White flowers lined the aisle in neat rows. At the far end of the room, Annisa stood holding a bouquet, her dress shimmering beneath the lights. Her face glowed, her eyes fixed on me with love and hope. In that moment, I wanted to walk toward her, take her hand, and swear I would never let go.
But the phone in my suit pocket vibrated. A message came in—only one line, yet every drop of blood in my body boiled, then froze in an instant.
Look beneath the main stage. The bomb has been planted. Leave her right now, or this entire building will explode with her inside.
Cold sweat broke out along my temples. My legs felt heavy, as though they had been rooted to the floor. I looked left and right, searching for the person who had sent the message. Nothing seemed suspicious. Everyone was smiling and laughing, unaware that death was standing among them.
I glanced at Annisa. She was still looking at me, smiling sweetly. My heart shattered into pieces. If I stayed there, she would die. If I left, she would hate me forever. Between her death and her hatred, there had never really been a choice.
I slowly stepped backward. Annisa noticed my movement. Her smile began to fade. She took one step forward.
“Andrian? What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, sounding so close, yet the distance between us felt as though it was widening without end.
I couldn’t look into her eyes. If I saw the tears there, I would give in. I would choose to stay and die with her. That couldn’t happen. She had to live. She had to breathe, grow, and be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.
“Forgive me,” I whispered, so softly that only I could hear it.
I turned around and walked out of the room. Step by step, I moved away from the only thing that mattered to me. Annisa’s screams rang out behind me. Her voice called my name, filled with pain and heartbreak. Every step felt like a knife slicing into my chest. I wanted to stop, turn around, and pull her into my arms. But the image of the explosion—of her lifeless body—hurt even more.
I kept walking until the door closed behind me. Outside, the air was cold enough to pierce my bones. I clenched the phone in my hand, my fingers trembling. Another message came in.
Good. You obeyed. The bomb has been deactivated. Remember, you must never see her again. The moment you approach her, she dies.
I pressed my back against the wall, my body slowly sliding down. Tears fell, and I couldn’t hold them back. I cried in silence, letting the pain tear me apart. The people inside might have thought I was a coward, a traitor, a heartless man. So be it. Let all that hatred fall on me. As long as she was safe. As long as she was alive.
Five years passed. The feeling never disappeared. Every night, I woke up imagining the look on her face when she watched me leave. Every day, I searched for the person behind it all. Who had dared to manipulate me, using my feelings to control everything?
And now that I finally knew who stood behind all that darkness, I understood. I had never truly left. I had only been hiding, waiting for the right time to return. And this time, there would be no bomb, no threats, and no power in the world capable of separating us again. Even if she hated me, even if she rejected me, I would remain by her side. Because this time, I was no longer the man who ran to keep her safe. I was the shield standing in front of her, ready to destroy anyone who dared touch even a single strand of hair on her head.