There is a kind of waiting that feels soft.
And then there is the kind that slowly wears you down.
This was the second kind.
I didn't realize how much space Gilang had taken in my life until I started measuring time by him.
By his messages. By his silence. By the way my chest reacted to both.
It was ridiculous.
I knew it.
And still, I let it happen.
If he were here right now, I wouldn't feel like this.
The thought slipped in quietly as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone.
I hadn't said anything.
Not really.
Not the things that mattered.
Because somewhere inside me, there was still that hesitation. That thin layer of pride that refused to crack open first.
Let him say it. Let him be the one.
I told myself it was about dignity.
But deep down, I knew it was fear.
My phone vibrated.
I froze for a second before grabbing it too quickly.
Gilang.
Just his name was enough to make my heartbeat shift.
I opened the message.
Are you busy?
Simple.
Too simple.
I stared at it longer than I should have before typing back.
Why?
I deleted it.
Typed again.
What's up?
Deleted.
Too eager.
I inhaled slowly, forcing myself to sound normal.
What is it, Lang?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
I want to take you somewhere.
My fingers hovered above the screen.
Where?
A pause.
Then:
A restaurant in Bandung.
My chest tightened.
A restaurant.
Of all places.
"Why does this feel like something," I murmured to myself.
I typed again.
That's sudden. What's the occasion?
This time, his reply took a little longer.
Just come. I have something for you.
Something for me.
The words lingered longer than they should.
A part of me already knew where this could lead.
Or maybe I just wanted it to.
"Don't assume things," I whispered under my breath.
But my heart wasn't listening.
It was already racing ahead.
Okay. What time? I typed.
A few seconds later:
I'll let you know.
I frowned.
"That's it?"
No time.
No detail.
Just... wait.
Hours passed.
Too many.
And nothing came.
I checked my phone again.
Still nothing.
"This is unbelievable," I muttered, pacing across my room.
He was the one who asked.
He was the one who said he had something.
And now he just... disappeared?
Again?
Something tightened in my chest, sharper this time.
"Why do I keep falling for this?" I whispered, dropping onto my bed.
I stared at the ceiling, irritation slowly mixing with something heavier.
Something that almost burned.
Maybe he's busy.
Maybe something came up.
Maybe—
I stopped myself.
"No," I said out loud, my voice tighter now. "Don't start making excuses for him."
If it mattered, he would have said something.
If it mattered, he wouldn't leave me hanging like this.
Right?
I grabbed my phone again, opening our chat.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Are we still going?
Too needy.
I erased it.
So?
Too cold.
Deleted.
I exhaled sharply this time, frustration finally slipping through.
"This is exactly why I don't like this," I muttered, my voice cracking just slightly. "Unclear. Uncertain. Unfair."
And yet...
I was still waiting.
By evening, the sky had turned a muted shade of gray, the kind that made everything feel heavier than it should.
I sat by the window, my phone resting in my hand, my thoughts going in circles that refused to stop.
Maybe this was a mistake.
Maybe I had read too much into everything.
Maybe he never meant anything serious at all.
Maybe I was just... convenient.
The thought hit harder than I expected.
My throat tightened, and I blinked quickly, refusing to let it turn into something else.
"Lusiana."
I turned slightly.
My own reflection stared back at me in the glass.
"You're overthinking again."
I let out a quiet breath.
"Am I."
The memory of his voice surfaced without warning.
I don't do things halfway.
Then why does this feel like it.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, I didn't rush.
I looked at it slowly.
Carefully.
Like I was afraid of what I might see.
Gilang.
Of course.
I opened the message.
Sorry. Got held up.
I stared at it.
That was it.
No explanation.
No urgency.
Just... that.
Something inside me snapped, just a little more this time.
You could've told me earlier, I typed.
This time, I didn't delete it.
I sent it.
The reply came a minute later.
I know.
That was all.
I let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking my head.
"Of course you know."
So what now? I typed.
A pause.
Then:
Can you still come?
I closed my eyes for a second.
Part of me wanted to say no.
To push back.
To make him feel the same uncertainty he just gave me.
But another part of me...
The part that kept waiting, even when I told myself not to...
Answered first.
Where?
The location came through.
No more words.
Just a place.
And somehow, that made everything feel even more uncertain.
As I got ready, my thoughts refused to settle.
What if this was nothing?
What if it was something?
What if I was about to hear the words I had been waiting for?
Or worse.
What if I wasn't?
"You're overthinking," I whispered again, staring at myself in the mirror.
But my reflection didn't look convinced.
The ride to the restaurant felt longer than it should have.
Every passing streetlight, every turn, every second stretched just enough to make my heartbeat louder.
By the time I arrived, my hands were colder than I expected.
"Relax," I murmured. "It's just him."
But it had never been just him.
Not anymore.
I stepped inside.
The soft hum of conversations filled the space, warm lights casting shadows across neatly arranged tables.
I scanned the room.
Once.
Twice.
Then I saw him.
Gilang.
Sitting alone.
Waiting.
For a second, I just stood there.
Watching him.
Trying to read something from the way he sat, from the way his gaze seemed distant, like he was thinking about something far beyond this place.
Something I wasn't part of.
Yet.
And for a brief second—just a flicker—his jaw tightened, like he was holding something back.
"Lusiana."
I blinked.
He was looking at me now.
Fully present.
I walked toward him slowly, my heartbeat refusing to settle.
"You finally decided to show up," I said, trying to keep my tone light.
"I was already here," he replied.
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
Of course he did.
I sat down across from him, placing my bag carefully beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The air between us felt... different.
Not awkward.
Not familiar either.
Something in between.
"You said you had something," I said finally.
"I do."
My chest tightened slightly.
"Then?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into his bag, pulling something out.
A small box.
Simple.
Unassuming.
But enough to make my breath catch.
"This is for you," he said.
I stared at it.
Then at him.
"What is it?"
"Open it."
My hands hesitated for just a second before reaching for the box.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like whatever was inside could change something I wasn't ready to face.
"Gilang," I said softly, my fingers resting on the lid. "What is this?"
He met my gaze.
And for the first time since I walked in, I saw it.
That same certainty.
That same quiet intensity.
But this time… there was something else beneath it.
Something heavier.
"I told you," he said. "A surprise."
Something about the way he said it made my heartbeat spike.
Not with excitement.
With something else.
Something sharper.
Something that felt like a warning I didn't understand yet.
I opened the box.
And in that exact moment, I realized something.
This wasn't going to go the way I thought it would.