Dimitriv's gaze was slightly vacant as he adjusted his tie in front of the mirror. His right hand repeated the same motion over and over, even though his tie was already neat and didn't need adjusting anymore.
“Is there someone you love?”
“There is, but she'll belong to someone else.”
“Don't you want to take her first?”
Harlette's pupils widened. “Who gave you permission to say something so stupid?”
“I did.”
This imagined scene was what occupied Dimitriv's thoughts. His hands stopped as he came out of the reverie consuming his precious time. His eyes dropped to the Rolex circling his muscular wrist. It was time to leave. He looked at his reflection in the glass and made sure his appearance was impeccable.
A knock reached Dimitriv's ears, followed by a voice. “Sir, Mr. Wijaya is waiting for you.”
“Just tell him I'll leave on my own.” Dimitriv's reply pierced through the still-closed door.
“Yes, sir. I'll let him know.”
Dimitriv's car left the gates ahead of the other three cars parked in the driveway. The black steel horse turned left and moved at a moderate speed. The view outside the car window was always interesting. Every time Dimitriv left, he would always look toward one of the houses occupied by a father, a mother, and their child. Every morning, they happily interacted before getting into their respective cars. The husband went to the office, while his wife took their child to school.
A brief smile appeared on Dimitriv's face as he watched that warmth. The perfect family he'd never experienced at all. But he had to erase the smile from his face as soon as possible, because it was all just a fantasy. The perfect family he longed for would never become real. The reason was obvious: he couldn't marry the woman he loved, and he couldn't pretend to love the woman he'd been matched with by the family.
The car turned into one of the psychiatric clinics, which had an enormous parking lot. Dimitriv lowered the window and exchanged a smile with the security guard there. This wasn't Dimitriv's first visit. He immediately took the elevator to the top floor of the building.
His fingers curled into a fist, rising to knock twice on the door before he entered at once, since he had already made an appointment the night before.
“Hey, Brother,” greeted the young doctor in his beloved white coat. He rose from his chair and approached Dimitriv, who promptly seated himself on the sofa.
“What about what I asked for?” he asked without preamble.
“Relax. I've got it ready.”
Dimitriv gently massaged his forehead. “I should've gotten it last night.”
“I'm sorry, so sorry. I really couldn't postpone last night's appointment.” The man looked slightly regretful. He then pointed toward one corner of the room. “Want some coffee? I just bought a new machine.”
Dimitriv merely nodded, and his doctor friend immediately made them each a cup of coffee.
“Dane.”
“Hm?”
“Can you give me twice as much?”
The man tugged up the corner of his mouth. “Hey, c'mon, Brother. Don't make me look like a bad doctor.”
Dane sat back down and slid a fragrant cup of coffee in front of Dimitriv. “Drink it. This is the best ginseng coffee in the world. You'll love it.”
After taking a small sip, Dimitriv put the coffee cup back where it had been. “Dane, my head nearly split open when I tried to sleep.”
“I know.”
“I really can't escape this reality, even though I want to.” Dimitriv drew a heavy breath, then continued, “The other day, I met Raiden. And … I've always envied his decision. I feel like a coward for being myself.”
“Dim, you're amazing too. You sacrificed yourself for everyone. Regretting it will only destroy you. Ending it would make you relive everything from the beginning. All those years of sacrifice would only end in your own bloodshed.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Stick to your original decision. Marry her.”
Another heavy sigh hung between them. “Every year, I pray that woman will call off our engagement, but she never does. I can't break a promise myself. You know how seriously my father takes promises.”
Dane leaned back comfortably. “I've said it from the beginning: sacrificing yourself doesn't always end well for a person. In the end, he has to swallow the bitterness of his own decision.”
Dimitriv lifted the coffee cup again, taking a slow sip and savoring it. Dane stood, walked to the desk drawer, took out a small bottle of medicine, and handed it to Dimitriv.
“Use it as prescribed, remember?”
His best friend across from him nodded.
Before leaving, Dimitriv said, “Schedule a counseling session for me. I should at least pay for all the venting I've done.”
Dane merely nodded, allowing his best friend to leave the room. Dane felt genuinely sorry for what was happening to Dimitriv. His friend was hurt every time an old wound pierced his memories. Dimitriv had trouble sleeping and needed medicine to help him drift off. Only Dane knew this secret. Everyone else understood nothing; they only knew that Dimitriv always looked fine. But that was merely a mask.
Inside the car, Dimitriv didn't drive away right away. He spent a moment lost in thought. His marriage plans with Violette had only reopened the old wounds he'd witnessed between his mother and father. An unwanted marriage had only brought conflict. Dimitriv was simply afraid it would happen to him too—whether he would suddenly become cruel, or the opposite.
“This drink is pretty good.” Harlette gave her opinion after finishing more than half the drink in her glass.
Serena sighed. “I've been telling you for ages that lemon tea is always good, but you always called it a terrible drink. How does it feel to swallow your own words?”
Harlette giggled.
“By the way, what are we doing here?”
“You'll find out tonight.”
Harlette took everything out of her bag one item at a time: her tablet and S Pen, a sketchbook and a box of pencils in various sizes, and, of course, the camera she always carried everywhere. She'd brought all her work equipment and claimed she wanted to find inspiration outside because she felt suffocated in the atelier while watching her older sister and mother design the wedding dress.
“Serena, look,” Harlette urged as she opened her sketchbook.
“This dress is gorgeous. Is it for your sister's wedding?”
“No. It's for me.”
Serena didn't understand. She fell silent, waiting for an explanation.
“I designed my own dress, as if I were hoping my sister would leave and I could take her place. Crazy, right?” Serena merely raised one eyebrow in response. “I'm going to make this dress design a reality, even though I won't wear it while walking down the aisle with Mr. Dimitriv.”
“You're so obsessed with him, Harlette.”
“I know. And I don't care if you call me a crazy woman.”
“I meant to.”
“I'll only indulge my insanity within the limits I set for myself. I won't cross the line. You're my witness.” Harlette suddenly turned around and glanced at the apartment across the way. “I promise I'll leave on their wedding day, for the sake of my own peace of mind.”
Harlette abruptly changed seats and clasped Serena's hand hopefully. “That's why I chose you to help me plan everything. I know planning things in detail is basically your everyday job.”
“Yes, yes, yes. And I never expected to carry out this insanity in the real world.” Serena uncrossed her legs and began opening the laptop in front of her. “I need focus. I have to submit the first draft to my publisher soon, so don't bother me. Okay?”
“Okay, girl.”
Harlette felt bored at the time. She didn't know what to do while waiting for night to arrive. She could have finished the final sketch for the dress Morana had requested, but she was too lazy to work. Her fantasies still came first in her mind.
She glanced repeatedly at her best friend, who seemed completely focused on the thin screen in front of her. She and Serena were very different. Her friend seemed uninterested in any man; men existed only in her imagination. Meanwhile, Harlette had been hopelessly obsessed with one man her entire life.
Harlette stood, went to the kitchen of the rented apartment, and ate the ice cream she'd bought earlier. Then she returned to the sofa and sprawled out, playing with her phone, which contained nothing but angry messages from her mother telling her to return to the atelier.
“Serena.”
“Hm?”
“The man who was with Mr. Dimitriv yesterday—who was he?”
“I have no idea. I wasn't interested in finding out either. Why?”
Instead of answering Serena's question, Harlette abruptly sprang upright and stared enthusiastically at her phone.
“What is it?”
“The mission begins.”
Serena sighed softly as she closed her laptop. “Finally done, but another mission is already waiting for me.” She stood and asked, “Is there any ice cream left?”
Still staring at her phone, Harlette merely nodded in response. Who knew what she was looking at? Serena wasn't sure whether any of the ice cream they'd bought earlier was still left, since Harlette had been going back and forth to the refrigerator and taking out ice cream all afternoon.
Cold air brushed her face as she leaned close to the cooling unit. Serena beamed. Luckily, one was still left. While biting into the ice cream, she walked back toward her best friend. Serena's brow furrowed when she saw Harlette busy setting up a device that looked like a telescope.
“What are you doing?”
“What else? Working, of course.”
“Spying on him?” Serena asked. Harlette didn't answer, which explained everything. Serena instinctively covered her mouth. “Oh my God. I thought my character Elthera was already crazy enough. Turns out my friend in the real world is crazy too.”
Harlette giggled. “Am I really that crazy?”
“So this is what you've been hiding all this time.”
Harlette finished checking the telescope's lens and asked Serena to try it. “Take a look.”
A little curious, the woman moved closer. She brushed her hair behind her ear before finally peering through the device. The telescope was aimed at one of the apartment units, whose lights had begun turning on and whose curtains were also starting to open.
Serena narrowed her eyes further and began to see clearly who the man across the way was. Dimitriv. He appeared to be taking off the tie that had been fastened around his neck since morning, then rolling up his shirt sleeves.
While Serena was engrossed in spying, Harlette suddenly shoved her aside, nearly making Serena curse. Harlette took her place and smiled to herself as she watched the man who had no idea he was being observed.
Serena turned her gaze toward the apartment window. She could see nothing but the large building across the way. Then she glanced at Harlette. Something was strange about her friend's expression. That seemingly eternal smile suddenly vanished.
“What is it, Harlette?”
“They met,” she answered flatly.
Dimitriv walked toward the sofa, followed by a woman who was none other than Violette. The two stopped and stared at each other, looking somewhat serious. Then Violette suddenly took Dimitriv's hand, and the man let her.
With an annoyed expression, Harlette ended her surveillance and packed up the equipment. Confused, Serena could only sit there and stare at the irritation on her friend's face.
“Why are you stopping? We've been waiting for him since this afternoon.”
“They're holding hands. Why should I watch this?”
“Then what's the problem? Didn't you already suspect this would happen?”
Harlette let out a harsh breath. “Yes, I knew. And I just hate the fact that they're falling in love with each other now.”
The woman immediately stuffed Serena's laptop into her bag. Serena merely gave a small crooked smile at the sight of her friend's wildly unstable behavior when it came to romance. It reminded her of something she'd once told Harlette: “Men are always a hassle.” And it really was true. A man—just creating drama.
Meanwhile, Dimitriv ended his conversation with the woman. Violette left him and slammed the door. Dimitriv didn't seem bothered; his face remained impassive. He sauntered to the kitchen drawer and took out a bottle of wine.
“How did you know Mr. Dimitriv was there?” Serena asked on the way back to her apartment.
Earlier, Harlette had been watching a movie about secret agents carrying out dangerous operations to expose a drug kingpin. She saw a scene where someone placed a tracking device on their target's car.
Harlette had thought of doing the same thing to Dimitriv's car. She knew the black S-Class was Dimitriv's favorite and that he used it everywhere. So all this time, Harlette had known where the car was headed, and she had always been safe. For some reason, Dimitriv had never noticed anything strange about his car.
The excitement on her face as she stared at her phone earlier was because she'd seen Dimitriv's car moving toward the apartment across the way. She knew that every Saturday, Dimitriv went there to drink wine, then went home around midnight.
The car suddenly screeched to a stop just as Harlette was about to run a red light. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief, and their hearts resumed beating at a normal rhythm.
“Harlette,” Serena blurted.
“Sorry.” She just grinned. How annoying.
Maddie was calling.
Serena immediately answered the call, responding yes to everything the woman on the other end said.
“They're all gathered and waiting for us.”
“Morana's definitely going to chew me out after this.”
“And I'll support her,” Serena said. “You really do need to be yelled at, Lette.”
“I'm used to it. Everyone yells at me—Mom, Morana, Julietta, Noah. When you're used to everyone doing it, it isn't a problem.”
“Men always create drama in our lives.”
“Without men, life wouldn't be interesting. Try bringing a man into your life,” Harlette said, unwilling to lose to her friend's argument.
Serena, however, fell silent as if she'd lost and stopped arguing, because talking about men never ended. Besides, she wasn't interested. It would be better to make up a fake scenario to continue the novel draft she was working on.
When they arrived at Madeleine's house, Harlette was startled by the sight of Dimitriv's black car as soon as she stepped out of the SUV.
“Mr. Dimitriv is here?” Serena asked, and Harlette merely shrugged.
The two of them entered the large house, which was occupied only by Madeleine and several household assistants. Her parents had scattered like lost children, and Madeleine had built her own path until she succeeded and could pour money into a home this comfortable.
They arrived in the room where they usually gathered together. Sure enough, the man was there.
“You took long enough, Harlette. I've been waiting for you,” Dimitriv said softly.
“Waiting for me?” Harlette murmured to herself.