“Do not insult me, sister dear, It’s exactly what I think,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re reading something that isn’t yours. You’re invading his privacy.”
I looked away, guilt and shame swirling in my chest. “I just wanted to understand him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Cahya’s eyes narrowed, his disappointment cutting deeper than I expected. “I told you that very first day to leave that diary be, and you didn’t listen to me. That’s not how you do it, Yesoh. You don’t ‘understand’ someone by going behind their back and reading their most private thoughts. If you want to know him, you ask him.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to explain, but no words came out. He was right. I knew he was right.
“You care about him,” Cahya said after a moment, his tone softening slightly. “You always have, I can see that. But if you really believe in your love for him, then you’ll tell him what you’ve done.”
I froze, my stomach twisting. “I cannot do that. What if he doesn’t forgive me?”
Cahya shook his head, his expression serious. “Then you deal with it. But he deserves to know the truth. And if you don’t tell him, I will.”
“Cahya youwouldn’tfucking dare.” I teared up, venom on my tongue.
“You haven’t an idea in the world what I would dare to do for my best friend. He would do the same for me,” he insisted.
“But I amyoursister—”
“Which is why I expected more from you.” Cahya swallowed. “I’mdisappointedin you, Yesoh.”
His words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting.
“I’ll give you until our last day here,” he added, his voice low. “After that, it’s on me.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone on the swing with nothing but my guilt. I sank back onto it, my hands trembling as I tried to steady my breathing.
The weight of his ultimatum pressed down on me, and I knew there was no way out. I had to tell Wyn. I just didn’t know if I had the strength to face him—and the consequences of what I’d done.
I wandered back inside quietly at the table, watching Wyn work with my mom and Cahya, my chest tightening with an unexpected ache. Wyn was here, in my house, folding himself into my world with the kind of care and patience I’d never asked for but always hoped for. He was steady and warm and present, and he didn’t ask for anything in return.
And yet…
I bit my lip, the weight of my secret pressing down on me. The image of his journal flashed in my mind—the pages I’d flipped through late one night, desperate to understand the parts of him he didn’t share. I had told myself it was innocent, that I was just trying to know him better. But now, watching him stir the pot with quiet determination, I felt the sharp sting of guilt.
I had taken something that wasn’t mine to take, and he had no idea. He was here, trusting me, fitting into my family, and I was holding onto a betrayal he didn’t deserve.
“Hey,” Wyn said, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I blinked, realizing he was looking at me. “What?”
“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Just…thinking.”
He nodded, turning back to the stove. “You think too much,” he said lightly, kissing my temple as if to calm the turbulent tidesthat swept my mind. “Relax. Dinner’s almost ready, you look pale my sweet, you have to eat.”
As the rendang simmered on the stove, the kitchen settled into a warm, cozy rhythm. Cahya and mummy bantered in the corner, the sound of their laughter blending with the gentle bubbling of the pot. Wyn stayed focused on his task, stirring occasionally, his movements calm and methodical.
I watched him from my seat, my heart aching with a mix of emotions I couldn’t untangle. He didn’t know what I’d done, didn’t know the part of me that had crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. And yet, he was here—faithful, steady, and entirely unaware.
“Alright,” Mummy said finally, peeking into the pot. “I think it’s ready.”
Wyn stepped back, letting her take over as she scooped the rendang into a serving dish. The rich, fragrant sauce coated the tender pieces of beef, and my mouth watered just looking at it.
“Not bad,” mummy said, glancing at Wyn. “For your first try.”
“I’ll take that as a win,” Wyn said, smiling.
