The night after discovering the unfamiliar perfume scent on Ardi’s shirt, Naila did not immediately accuse him of anything. Again and again, she tried to convince herself that the scent might have come from the office.
After all, Ardi worked with many people every day. Perhaps someone’s perfume had accidentally rubbed off on his shirt.
Yet the harder she tried to ignore her suspicions, the more difficult it became for her heart to find peace.
Morning came as usual. Naila still woke before dawn, prepared breakfast, ironed Ardi’s work clothes, and tidied the house before leaving for the office.
Nothing had changed about her routine, even though so many things inside her had begun to feel different. The forgotten birthday had left behind a small wound that had not fully healed, while the scent of that woman’s perfume kept appearing in her thoughts uninvited.
Near noon, while finishing a monthly report at her desk, her phone vibrated. The name on the screen softened her expression slightly.
Mr. Joko.
He was an old neighbor who lived right next to the house her parents had left behind.
“Naila, sorry to bother you while you’re working,” Mr. Joko said after she answered the call.
“It’s okay, Mr. Joko. What’s wrong?”
“It rained heavily this morning. I noticed that some of the roof tiles on your parents’ house had shifted. I’m worried it’ll leak if it rains again.”
Hearing that, Naila’s thoughts immediately drifted to the cream-colored house that had stood empty for nearly two years since her parents passed away. The house was simple, but every corner held irreplaceable memories.
That house was where her entire childhood had been left behind.
“I’ll go there this weekend, Mr. Joko. I’ll check on the house while I’m there.”
“Okay. I just wanted to let you know. It’d be a shame if it got damaged.”
After the call ended, Naila opened her phone gallery and stared at a photo of her parents. Their warm smiles captured on the screen made her chest tighten with both longing and grief. Two years had passed since they left her, but the loss still felt exactly the same as it had on the first day.
That evening, while eating with Ardi, Naila told him what Mr. Joko had said.
“Ardi, I want to go to my parents’ house this weekend. Mr. Joko said some of the roof tiles have shifted.”
Ardi nodded while continuing to eat.
“That house is still empty?”
“Yes.”
“That’s kind of a waste.”
Naila only gave him a faint smile. She did not want to prolong the discussion. But a few minutes later, they heard the front gate open. Mrs. Widya and Mr. Surya arrived without warning.
The conversation started out normally. They talked about Ardi’s work, Lala’s life as a college student, and the steadily rising cost of basic necessities. Somehow, though, the conversation gradually turned toward the house Naila’s parents had left behind.
“Ardi said your parents’ house is still empty?” Mrs. Widya asked.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Why leave it empty like that?”
“It’s the house my parents left me. I haven’t really thought about renting it out.”
Mrs. Widya exchanged a glance with her husband before giving a small smile.
“If you ask me, that’s such a waste.”
“What do you mean, Mom?”
“That house is an asset.”
“Yes.”
“Well, assets are supposed to make money. Not just sit empty like that.”
Before Naila could answer, Mrs. Widya continued.
“That house belongs to you now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then it automatically belongs to the family too.”
Naila fell silent for a few seconds. She truly had not expected those words to come out so casually.
“The family’s asset?”
“Yes. You’re married to Ardi now. What do you mean, ‘your house’ and ‘our house’?”
Naila turned to Ardi, hoping her husband would correct his mother. After all, the house was an inheritance from her parents.
“She has a point, Naila,” Ardi said casually.
Something immediately began to weigh on her chest.
“That house was left to me by my parents, Ardi.”
“I know.”
“That’s why you should make use of it,” Mrs. Widya quickly interjected. “If you sell it, the money could become start-up capital for a business.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve never intended to sell that house.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the only thing my parents left me.”
Mrs. Widya sighed softly, as if that reason were not strong enough.
“Naila, your parents are gone. What matters now is your family’s future.”
The words made Naila’s throat tighten.
But Mrs. Widya was not finished. She became even more enthusiastic as she explained her plan.
“If you sell the house, Ardi can start his own business. Whatever’s left can help Lala too. Poor thing, she still has so many expenses.”
“If you don’t want to sell it, then Lala and her husband can just live there. They’re still renting.”
Naila clenched her fingers tightly beneath the table. The longer the conversation continued, the clearer it became that they did not see a house filled with memories. They saw only the money hidden within it.
To them, the house was nothing more than an asset.
But to Naila, it was the last place that still held traces of her parents.
“What do you think, Ardi?” she asked softly.
“I think Mom’s idea makes sense. Better than leaving the house empty.”
His answer felt like a knife slowly cutting into her heart.
Since the beginning of their marriage, she had always tried to accept her husband’s family as her own. But tonight, for the first time, she felt that there was something she could no longer simply give up.
After nearly an hour of conversation, Mrs. Widya and Mr. Surya finally left. The house fell quiet again.
Ardi went straight to the bedroom, unaware that his wife was still sitting alone in the living room, her thoughts in disarray.
Not long afterward, her phone vibrated.
A message from Mr. Rudi appeared on the screen.
Ms. Naila, I have good news.
Naila immediately opened the message.
The first installment of the project funds was released this afternoon.
It’s one billion rupiah, and the money has already been deposited into the company’s account.
For months, she had spent her nights helping draft proposals, improve business strategies, and look for opportunities for Nexora. She had done all of it in secret after Ardi fell asleep.
At last, her hard work was beginning to pay off.
In this house, everyone had been busy discussing how to make use of the inheritance her parents had left behind.
No one knew that the greatest asset she owned was not that house.
Naila slowly opened the Nexora shareholding app.
The number on the screen held her gaze for several moments.
60% of Nexora Konsultan’s shares.
That stake made her the majority shareholder and owner of the company once considered to have no future.
When everyone else sold their shares out of fear that the company would go bankrupt, Naila had quietly bought them little by little using her annual bonuses and savings—money no one knew about.
For years, she had kept that secret all by herself.
And for now, Naila had no intention of telling anyone.