That morning, I arrived at the café early. I didn't know why, but ever since meeting Friy yesterday, I hadn't been sleeping soundly. His face kept appearing among the shadows of Maul, the person I was trying to erase.
I hated that feeling. Not because Friy had done anything wrong, but because I still hadn't finished healing from an old wound. It didn't feel fair to let someone new draw close while my heart was still busy looking back.
Still, I chose to keep busy. I arranged the glasses, wiped down the tables, then checked the sugar supply. I had just started to lift a box from the storeroom when I heard laughter from the front of the café.
“If you lift things by yourself, your back could start hurting.”
I turned around. Friy stood in the doorway with two packets of rice in his hands.
“Did you come for coffee?” I asked.
“To make sure the new employee here doesn't go hungry.”
“Your excuse sounds too rehearsed.”
“It is. But you still answered.”
I wanted to shoot back, but his small smile held the words in my throat. Friy set one packet of rice on the counter. Nothing excessive, nothing forceful. Just a simple gesture of concern that somehow felt unfamiliar.
“You didn't have to go to the trouble,” I said.
“I know. I wanted to.”
I stared at him. The sentence was simple, but it managed to knock on a place I'd kept tightly guarded all this time. Maul used to say things like that too. He never considered taking care of me a burden. The difference was that with Maul, I always felt guilty. With Friy, I didn't yet know what I was supposed to feel.
“Don't look at me like that,” Friy said.
“Like what?”
“Like you're comparing me to someone.”
My chest suddenly tightened. He was too perceptive.
“I am trying to forget someone,” I said honestly.
Friy didn't laugh. He only pulled out a chair and sat down in front of me.
“Then don't force yourself to forget.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Memories aren't stains you have to scrub away,” he continued. “Just let them be. Later, when they don't hurt anymore, you'll understand why they once stayed.”
I lowered my head. The advice sounded far too mature for a man who had nearly made me uncomfortable yesterday by paying so much attention to me.
“Don't act so wise,” I muttered.
“I'm not acting wise. I just once failed to forget someone.”
This time, I looked at him longer. There was a faint sadness on his face, like a door that hadn't fully closed.
“Do you still love him?” I asked.
Friy gave me a hollow smile. “Your question is the same as the one you might be avoiding.”
I fell silent.
The phone in my apron pocket vibrated. My body tensed at once. I knew who was contacting me even before I looked at the screen. Maul.
One message came in.
Ana, I'm going away for a little while today. If you're ready, let me know. If you're not, that's okay.
I read the message once. Then again. There were no demands. No questions forcing me to come home. That gentleness only made the ache in my chest worse.
Friy watched my face but didn't ask.
“I can leave if you need some time,” he said.
“You don't have to.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, then turned off my phone screen. For the first time, I wasn't ignoring Maul's message just because I wanted to run away. I simply wasn't ready to answer.
Friy rose from his chair.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
“You're not going to eat too?”
“I already ate.”
“Liar.”
He chuckled softly. “You've only known me for one day, and you're already accusing me.”
“You look hungry.”
“My face always looks like that.”
I couldn't help smiling. Friy walked toward the door, but before he left, he turned around.
“I'll wait for you in front of the café after work.”
“What for?”
“To walk you home.”
“I can go home by myself.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “But you don't always have to do everything alone.”
That sentence slowly erased my smile.
After Friy left, I opened the packet of rice he'd brought. Warm steam rose from it, carrying a simple aroma that suddenly made me want to cry. Not because the food was special, but because someone had remembered that I might not have eaten yet.
I looked at the phone beside me. Maul's message was still open.
My fingers moved. This time, I typed something.
Kak, I'm okay. Don't worry.
I stared at the sentence for a long time. Before I could send it, Friy appeared in the doorway again.
“Forget something?” I asked.
He pointed at the packet of rice in my hand. “The chili sauce.”
I laughed softly, then quickly locked my phone.
The message remained saved as a draft.
Between Maul's unfinished memories and Friy's newly begun attention, I realized something for the first time: maybe I wasn't looking for anyone's replacement. Maybe I was simply learning to recognize myself before deciding whose heart I wanted to come home to.
... (To be continued)