That morning, the aroma of fried rice filled the modest dining room. Outside, the sun had only just risen completely, but the atmosphere inside the house felt far from warm. Naila sat in one of the chairs, staring at her breakfast without any appetite. Ever since she had seen her account balance shrink drastically yesterday, her mind had not truly been at ease.
The doorbell rang just as she set down her spoon.
Naila could already guess who had come.
Sure enough, a moment later, Mrs. Widya stepped inside with a serious expression. Naila's father-in-law was nowhere to be seen behind her. Her mother-in-law was alone, and she immediately sat down without much small talk.
"Have you had breakfast?" Naila asked politely.
"I have. I'm only staying for a moment."
But from her experience all these years, Naila knew that whenever Mrs. Widya said "a moment," it usually ended with a long discussion that left her head throbbing.
Ardi, who was enjoying his breakfast, looked pleased to see his mother.
"Perfect timing, Mom. Naila just made fried rice."
Mrs. Widya nodded before turning to her daughter-in-law.
"Did you send the money for Lala yesterday?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Good."
That brief answer made Naila sigh inwardly. At least one matter was settled.
Unfortunately, that peace did not last long.
Mrs. Widya straightened her bag before speaking again.
"Actually, that's not the only reason I came."
Ardi immediately turned toward her.
"What else is it, Mom?"
Mrs. Widya's expression soured.
"Your father's motorcycle was pawned."
Ardi frowned.
"Pawned?"
"Yes. He lost another card game."
Naila stared at the dining table without saying a word. She had heard about her father-in-law's bad habit before, but until now, its consequences had never directly affected her.
"How much money is needed?" Ardi asked.
"Two million."
Mrs. Widya answered as if the amount meant nothing.
"If we don't redeem it soon, the interest will get even higher. That motorcycle was the first one our family ever owned. It holds so many memories. I don't want us to lose it."
Ardi nodded slowly.
"It would be a shame to lose it."
Then, without hesitation, his gaze shifted to Naila.
"We'll help out financially later, okay, Nay?"
We will???
Naila knew perfectly well who would be paying.
She drew a slow breath before answering.
"I'll look at my financial situation next month first, Mom."
The spoon in Ardi's hand stopped moving.
Mrs. Widya stared at her as if she had just heard something strange.
"What financial situation?"
"I just want to calculate our needs for next month first."
"But we're family."
Mrs. Widya's tone began to change.
"You've always been able to help before."
"That's because I've always helped, Mom."
The answer came out faster than Naila had planned.
The room immediately fell silent, and for the first time in the past several years, she did not immediately nod and say yes.
Mrs. Widya leaned back in her chair.
"You work, and Ardi works too. Do we really need to think twice about just two million? Don't be so calculating when it comes to family."
Ardi nodded along.
"That's right, Nay. Family is supposed to help each other."
Naila stared at her husband for several moments.
The words sounded beautiful when they were merely spoken.
The problem was that she had always been the one expected to help.
When her sister-in-law needed money, she was the one they asked.
When the bills piled up, she was the one they asked.
When there were medical expenses, she was the one they asked.
Now that her father-in-law had lost another gambling game, once again, she was the one they asked.
She had no idea when it had started, but every family problem always ended up at her account.
"Forget it," Mrs. Widya said as she stood. "I'm sure you'll understand."
Naila only offered a faint smile.
A smile that never reached her eyes.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Widya left.
Ardi walked his mother to the front gate before returning to the house.
As soon as the door closed, he immediately looked at Naila.
"What's wrong with you today?"
"What do you mean?"
"You seem reluctant to help my family."
The question nearly made Naila laugh.
She had been helping them for five years.
Yet the one time she asked for time to think, they immediately considered her reluctant.
"I just want us to think about our own needs too."
"You think too much."
After saying that, he picked up his work bag and left without waiting for her answer.
Not long afterward, the sound of Ardi's motorcycle disappeared at the end of the alley.
Naila cleared the dining table by herself. When she was done, she carried the dirty cups to the kitchen and began washing them.
Her phone vibrated as she rinsed the last plate.
The number that appeared was not saved in her contacts.
Naila quickly answered it.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, Ms. Naila."
She instantly recognized the voice on the other end.
Mr. Rudi.
The operations manager at Nexora Konsultan.
"I have good news, ma'am."
Naila stopped what she was doing.
"We just received a notification from the tender committee."
Her heart began beating faster.
"The proposal you prepared has made it through to the final presentation stage."
Several seconds passed in silence.
Then, slowly, a smile appeared on Naila's face.
It was not the forced smile she showed in front of her husband's family.
It was a genuine smile, one she had not felt in a long time.
"Thank you, sir."
"If the presentation goes well, we have a very strong chance of winning this project."
After the call ended, Naila stood in the kitchen for a long time, staring at her phone's screen.
For the first time that day, someone had contacted her not to ask for money.
Someone had contacted her because they valued her abilities.
Her eyes then shifted to the laptop sitting on the small desk in the corner of the house.
There was still a lot to prepare before the upcoming presentation.
But one thing was becoming increasingly clear in her mind.
If her family would never see her value as anything more than a source of money, then she would build a future that no longer depended on their recognition.
And tonight, when everyone was asleep, she would get back to work and make it happen.