Khayra stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was lightly touched up with natural makeup, and she wore a pastel-colored kebaya that matched the theme of today's event.
Without realizing it, the day of Yuda and Ziya's wedding had arrived.
Two hypocrites—that was what Khayra thought of them.
"You're strong, Khayra," she told herself in her heart, though the tears betrayed her resolve and once again slid down her cheeks.
"Please, stop crying. You'll ruin the makeup," she murmured to her reflection, wiping her tears with a tissue. But it was useless. The more she tried to stop, the harder they fell.
She covered her face with both hands. The truth was, she wasn't as strong as she thought she could be to face this. The pain was unbearable—so much that it felt hard to breathe.
"Kay, I've never asked for anything from you. Your uncle and I have taken you in all this time without ever bringing up the costs we've spent on you. After all, you're our niece. But just this once, I'm asking you—please let Yuda go. Let Ziya marry him. Don't you pity her? You're not pregnant, you can still find another man—someone better than Yuda."
Those words from Aunt Ratna, Ziya's mother, kept echoing in her ears. The pain from hearing them was sharp—so easy for her to say, just because Khayra had been living under her roof.
It wasn't that easy to let go of the man who had been by her side for the past five years.
"What do I do? Why does it hurt so much?" Khayra sobbed, hitting her chest a few times.
A knock at the door made her turn her head. She quickly wiped her tears with a tissue and glanced back at the mirror, making sure her eyes didn't look too puffy—though it was nearly impossible to hide.
She walked to the door and opened it. The wedding was being held in Ziya's spacious yard, set up for a garden party.
"Khayra," a woman in a hijab greeted, her face radiating warmth.
"Aunt Sarah?" Khayra's voice trembled.
The plump woman stepped into the room and pulled her niece into a hug. Khayra couldn't hold it in any longer—her sobs broke free, spilling into her aunt's embrace.
"Be patient, dear. Maybe this is Allah's way of showing you that Yuda isn't the right man for you," Aunt Sarah said gently.
Sarah was the younger sister of Khayra's late mother, just like Ratna. Before moving to Jakarta, Khayra had lived with Sarah and her husband Iwan in Bandung. They loved her as their own child, since they had none. But after graduating college, Khayra had decided to move to Jakarta for work, coincidentally staying with Aunt Ratna and Uncle Andi—Ziya's parents—while Ziya was still a university student.
Khayra had started dating Yuda back in their college days in Bandung. His parents lived in Jakarta, so after graduation, he moved there too.
"Stay strong, Kay. I know it's hard, but you have to let him go," Sarah said, rubbing her shoulder.
"He said he loved me so much, that he'd always be by my side. He promised I'd be the only woman he'd marry. But now he's breaking it all. And I'm the one left with this unbearable pain. We were already engaged, the wedding date was set, the venue booked, even the wedding organizer contacted. And then he destroyed everything, Aunt. What did I do wrong for him to hurt me like this?" Khayra asked, her tears streaming again.
"I can't even bear to watch their wedding. I'm not strong enough to stand there and fake a smile. I can't do it, Aunt," she cried harder.
"Then don't go out there. Just stay here. No one will look for you," Sarah said softly.
"You should go back downstairs, Aunt. Maybe Aunt Ratna needs help," Khayra said, wiping her cheeks.
"But how can I leave you like this?" Sarah stroked her head.
"I'll be fine," Khayra replied. "Maybe once I feel calmer, I'll come down."
"Are you sure?" Sarah asked.
"Yes. You can go, Aunt. I'll come later—after the ceremony's over."
"Alright, then. I'll bring you something to drink first. Calm yourself. And if you don't feel ready, you don't have to go down at all," Sarah said before stepping out, leaving Khayra alone.
Once Sarah was gone, Khayra just sat there, trying to wrestle with the pain tearing through her chest.
She stayed in her room for a long time, sobbing uncontrollably when she heard Yuda reciting his wedding vows. The words that bound him to Ziya in front of Allah—words she had once dreamed would be spoken to her.
When a heart shatters, sometimes tears are the only relief—though they heal nothing and erase nothing.
After calming down, she went into the bathroom to wash her face. She even pressed a cold wet towel against her swollen eyes, hoping to reduce the puffiness.
She sat back at her vanity, applying thicker, bolder makeup than before—just enough to hide her eyes that now looked like a frog's.
When she finally looked presentable—though her heart was far from it—she stepped out of her room. Outside, the newlyweds stood on the ballroom stage, performing several Sundanese wedding traditions, as Ziya's family was originally from Sunda.
Khayra stayed at a distance from the crowd near the stage.
"I'll let you go as far as my love allows. My heart is my own burden to bear. So go—be happy in your new life," she thought, gazing wistfully toward the couple.
"Stop staring at them like a fool."
The voice startled her. She turned to see Kaivan standing there in a batik shirt and black jeans.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in shock.
Kaivan exhaled. "Seems like your world only revolves around Yuda. How long were you two together?"
"What? Didn't I tell you before? I'm Yuda's cousin. Of course I'm here," Kaivan said.
"Oh right, I forgot," Khayra muttered.
"They say love makes people stupid—and I guess they're right," Kaivan teased, earning an eye-roll and crossed arms from her as she turned away.
"Yuda's father is my mother's younger brother," he added.
"What a coincidence. But why didn't Yuda ever mention it? He knows your father is my boss," Khayra said.
"I'm not your father."
Khayra shot him a glare. "Should I just call you Uncle then?" she said sarcastically.
"No. Call me Aa Ivan."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sure, Aa Ivan the Super Strict."
"Only people with low IQ say I'm strict," he replied.
"What's that supposed to mean? That I have low IQ?" she asked, now facing him fully.
"I never said it—you did," Kaivan smirked. "You're just like a turtle. So slow."
"You do know turtles can beat long-legged horses like you, right?" she shot back.
"Long-legged horse?" he repeated, amused. "You're brave—calling your manager a long-legged horse. Are you tired of your job?"
"Threats again. Typical. Long-legged horse," she muttered under her breath.
Their bickering didn't go unnoticed by Yuda, who was watching from the stage. His eyes stayed locked on them, jealousy flaring, ignoring Ziya's attempts to talk to him.
"How does Khayra know Bang Kai?" Yuda wondered.
***