Revan's fever was 39 degrees Celsius.
That morning, he didn't wake up and looked terribly weak. Alya panicked when she touched the forehead and face of the man beside her. “Mas, wake up,” Alya whispered.
Nadia watched Alya from the doorway. She was carrying warm water and a small towel, and now she came closer. “Change his wet clothes first,” she ordered.
Her voice was calm, but her hands trembled as she wiped the sweat from Revan's forehead. Alya, meanwhile, didn't suspect a thing about Nadia's concern for Revan.
But what confused Alya was when her boyfriend murmured, “Don't... don't go... Mbak...” Alya's face went pale. “Who is he calling?”
Nadia didn't know how to answer. Then she said haltingly, “Maybe he's dreaming, Ya. That's what a high fever does.”
A lie. It wasn't a dream.
The second day. His fever went down, but Revan was still weak. Nadia took care of him from morning until night. The woman carefully wiped his body, changed his compresses, and fed him medicine every four hours.
“Why are you the one taking care of me?” Revan asked when he briefly regained consciousness.
“Because you're a guest,” Nadia answered shortly, “and because I can.”
Alya had offered to take over, but Nadia said, “You take care of the kids. I'll handle this.” There was no arguing with her tone.
The second night. Revan woke up. His throat was dry. Nadia was already sitting in the chair beside the bed. She was so exhausted that she'd fallen asleep there.
A bowl of cold porridge sat in her lap. Her hair had come loose and covered her face, just like it had five years ago when she'd stayed up late working on her thesis.
Revan reached out. He wanted to touch her. But he stopped halfway.
Nadia woke up. Their eyes met. Three seconds. An eternity. “Take your medicine,” Nadia finally said, breaking the moment.
She fed Revan. One spoonful. Two. Her hand was careful. Just like before.
“Thanks, Mbak,” Revan whispered. “Yeah.” Nadia answered without wanting to talk any more.
“Why are you still being kind to me?”
Nadia stopped feeding him. “Because I don't hate you that much yet.” Her honest answer made Revan's chest ache.
The third day. Revan could walk again. Alya looked relieved. “Thank God you're feeling better, Mas.” “Yeah,” Revan answered. But his eyes searched for Nadia.
Nadia avoided him. She kept busy in the kitchen, cooking more than usual. As if she were trying to cover something up.
That afternoon, Alya went to the market. The kids played outside. The house was quiet. Only Revan was in the living room, and Nadia was in the kitchen.
Revan went in. “Let me help,” he said eagerly.
“No need.” Nadia rejected him immediately.
“I feel better now,” Revan said again.
But Nadia didn't want to make small talk that would only stir up feelings. “Just sit down.”
Revan sat in a chair, watching Nadia's back as she chopped onions. The same back he used to watch at eleven at night.
“I lied for five years, Mbak,” Revan said suddenly. Nadia stopped chopping. “I said I was leaving for college. But the truth was, I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” Nadia asked. The knife in her hand stopped moving.
“Scared that if I stayed one more day, I'd tell you I liked you.” Revan's confession left the woman beside him speechless.
Nadia drew a breath. “It's over, Van.”
“Not for me,” Revan said, standing up. “Every time I see you cooking, every time I hear you call the kids... I remember everything.”
Nadia turned around. Her eyes were red. “Then what do you want? To destroy my marriage? To destroy your engagement?”
“No!” Revan burst out. “I'm just... I'm just tired of lying.”
Nadia stepped closer. Now there was less than a meter between them. “If you love me, prove it. Don't waste your breath on useless words like that, Van.”
“How do I prove it, Mbak?” Revan asked. For some reason, a sliver of hope stirred in Nadia's words.
“Leave again, and never come back,” Nadia replied without expression.
The words struck like a hard slap, making the man step back. “Yeah. I'll leave.”
He walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
Outside, Alya had just returned. “Huh? Mas, where are you going?”
“I'm going for a walk,” Revan answered. “I need some air,” he added without even glancing at Alya.
Inside the kitchen, Nadia leaned against the counter. She hadn't finished chopping the onions. Tears escaped before she could stop them.
But when the door opened slowly, she immediately wiped away the clear drops, afraid Revan had come back and would see that she was hurting too over the state of their relationship.