"Mas… Mas, are you okay?" Wistara said, still in disbelief.
"How much? Just say it." Wildan stared sharply at Galuh, without a smile on his lips.
"I'm sorry, I don't… I don't have time for that."
"Arya, leave my business card with her again." Wildan then rose from his seat. "I'll be waiting for that good news." He straightened his suit jacket. "I'm leaving first, Tara. Arya, if you still want to have lunch, go ahead. I'll wait at the office."
Arya and Wistara exchanged looks, not expecting the situation to turn out like this. "O-okay, Mas."
Wildan then walked away, after staring at Galuh for quite a long moment. The girl looked flustered, so much so that she didn't realize she was standing in the way of Wildan's steps.
Wildan's tall body standing in front of Galuh blocked her view. She then realized it and shifted her foot to the right. However, Wildan seemed able to read her thoughts and also shifted his step so that he was still facing Galuh.
The girl moved again, and Wildan repeated the same action. She felt awkward, then lifted her head to look at Wildan. A faint smile appeared on Wildan's lips, revealing his dimples. He then stepped aside and walked past Galuh. As the man walked away, Galuh continued to watch him leave.
The situation did not escape Wistara's attention. He seemed to be thinking about something. Since earlier, he had been alternately observing Galuh's and Wildan's behavior, and he was smart enough to notice something odd between them.
"The total is one hundred and thirty-five thousand five hundred rupiah, Mas Wistara," Galuh broke the silence by stating the amount Wistara had to pay. Unfortunately, her gaze that was still following Wildan did not escape Wistara's notice.
The bespectacled man then took out his wallet and handed three fifty-thousand-rupiah bills to Galuh. As soon as Galuh walked toward the cashier, Wistara immediately turned his sitting position and now faced Arya, who was enjoying the black pepper beef dish that Wistara had ordered for Wildan.
"Mas, you owe me an explanation," Wistara whispered with a sharp gaze at Arya. Arya, who was still chewing his food, choked and started coughing.
Wildan stopped his black sports car in front of a dead-end alley. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, holding back the heat not only in his eyes but also in his chest.
"Wildan, your father collapsed again. Hurry and come here." Mona's voice on the other end of the phone made Wildan's body tense. What flashed through his mind was his father's face lying stiff on the bed, just like when he had seen his mother's body several years ago.
Wildan, who happened to be in his apartment, immediately threw off the thick blanket covering his body. He hurriedly put on gray sports pants and a gray jacket in case the air became very cold. He only had time to straighten his white T-shirt while grabbing the car keys from the bedside table.
Without thinking of anything else, he ran out. Fortunately, the roads were not very congested tonight, so it didn't take long for him to arrive at the hospital.
Mona was still sitting on the edge of the bed where Cakrabuana lay weak. He saw that Wistara had also just arrived at the hospital, still wearing his doctor's coat. They passed each other but didn't say much, only communicating through exchanged glances.
"Father, I'm here, with Wistara," Wildan whispered into Cakrabuana's ear. The middle-aged man's eyes, which were growing increasingly dim, opened. His body had grown thinner. The man smiled faintly, then waved his hand at Wildan, asking him to come closer.
"Father is waiting…" Cakrabuana's words felt like a blow to Wildan. His eyes instantly burned, but he tried with all his strength to keep the warm drops from flowing down his cheeks.
"Wait a little longer, Father." For the first time, Wildan spoke with full conviction in front of his father. He didn't know where the strength to say that came from.
Cakrabuana then blinked his eyes and lowered his hand. "Father will rest first."
Wildan stroked the back of his father's hand, holding back the ache in his chest. After some time, he let his father fall into a deep sleep. He glanced at Wistara, who looked very tired, still standing across from him beside Mona.
They then moved away from the bed, letting their father rest. Wildan signaled to Wistara to step outside the room.
"Do you still have work?"
"Yes, Mas. I'm on duty in the ER."
"Go, dear. Let Auntie take care of your father. You too, Wildan. Go. If anything happens, Auntie will contact you."
Wildan and Wistara looked at each other. Wistara then said, "All right, Auntie. I'm sorry I can't stay to take care of Father. And… thank you for always being willing to accompany him."
Mona rubbed Wistara's left arm and then gave him a smile. "Of course Auntie has to accompany your father. Because he is Auntie's husband. Go, dear."
Wistara nodded slowly, then patted Wildan's arm. After that, he left, leaving Wildan and Mona still standing in the same place.
"How is it? Have you contacted Celine?"
Wildan shook his head but said nothing. Inside his heart, too many things were raging, making him restless.
"Believe me, dear. Think of this as the right step for your father's recovery. Auntie understands what you're feeling right now."
"Auntie will never understand." Wildan then walked away, leaving Mona shocked by his words. The woman then rubbed her chest again.
"No matter what, I still can't trust you, Mona," Wildan muttered while gripping the steering wheel once again. He glanced toward the simple house at the end of the dead-end alley. The lights were already off, except for the porch light.
Wildan still remembered a few days ago when he had sat on that bench while gazing at the very clear night sky. He had seemed to find peace at that moment.
This time, Wildan wanted to calm his mind there. No one knew what would happen if he spent a little time there, just to steady himself.
Without turning off the car engine, he got out of the car and walked toward the same bench. Even though the air was quite cold, Wildan didn't bother to take his jacket. He was wearing only a plain white T-shirt.
He sat on the bench, leaned back against it, then lifted his head to gaze at the night sky. For a moment, he felt a bit of peace. He could breathe more deeply without feeling as heavy as usual. Then he closed his eyes.
His memories returned to when his father was still healthy and strong. They often engaged in serious conversations about the company. When he was with his father, he felt as though he had found his purpose in life. Their connected and continuous discussions often made them forget the passage of time.
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That proverb perfectly described the relationship between him and his father. They shared similarities and the same interests.
"Mas Wildan, what are you doing here?"
***