I couldn’t bear it.
34
Tshabina
It had been three days since that night in Zioh’s apartment.
My division was busier than ever this morning, as today was the long-awaited day. After so many delays, the press conference announcing the joint project between my company’s new subsidiary and INDTV Group would finally be held after the Uncle Bakti issue was resolved.
That was also why Tsabinu had rarely been home. He seemed endlessly busy, which was why I’d been able to slip in and out of Zioh’s penthouse so easily back then.
And…
Andi had been acting strange for three days. No, strange wasn’t even the right word. Lately, he hadn’t been his usual nagging, talkative self either. He seemed preoccupied, like his mind was elsewhere.
That night, he had nearly driven me into panic, to the point where I crept under the covers in Zioh’s bedroom.
Andi had claimed he needed to talk to me about something important, only to reveal that he wanted me to watch a livestream of the latest gossip episode from an account he subscribed to.
He chattered about this “special,” which apparently focused on Uncle Bakti. He kept saying the team behind that gossip channel had discovered something “extraordinary” and that we had to watch it together.
But that was the problem—
I fell asleep.
I only caught the first few minutes before sleep dragged me under completely. When I woke, Andi had already gone pale, and his face was tense. The next morning, when I tried to reach out to him, he refused to talk about the video,brushing it off as nonsense, saying it was nothing I needed to think about. But he didn’t realize that his face betrayed him, even the way he avoided looking at me.
What was in that video?
That question had been gnawing at me for three days.
The only thing I remembered from that night was hearing my name as if someone had called it. But I couldn’t be sure, and Andi refused to say a word.
“Come on, Ndi, be honest, what was it that night?” I begged him again.
He was busy adjusting some of the camera equipment, and for a moment, he went rigid, then replied without even looking at me. “I told you, it was just the usual speculations.” He shrugged. “Not important. Not something you need to worry about,” he added, glancing at me for a second.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he even realize how his behavior screamed the opposite? I reached for his hand. “Yeah, but what kind of thing could be so bad that you won’t even—”
My words were cut when Aditya entered our team’s workspace, commanding everyone’s attention. “Guys, we’re running late, we gotta go,” he called from the corridor, checking his watch. “We need to get there before the executives and guests arrive. Five cars, split up, move quickly!”
His instructions sent everyone bustling, hauling equipment, and falling into line behind him. When I tried to turn back to Andi, he had already walked ahead.
What on earth was he hiding from me?
We arrived a few hours before the press conference began at Riveting Hall Jakarta Gathering Center. It was one of the city’s largest convention and exhibition venues, with multipurpose halls suitable for events like this.
The main hall bustled with activity. People from Artamain and INDTV moved back and forth, preparing equipment, while press members already claimed their seats.
Our team had been briefed that media divisions from Artamain and INDTV would be seated front and center, providing us with the best view for recording and photography. I busied myself with the camera, checking and re-checking every angle to ensure the setup was perfect.
When I glanced left and right, Andi was nowhere to be seen. He had slipped off earlier, saying he needed to create content with the others, and he hadn’t returned since. I sighed, shaking my head, then stacked my things on the spare chair and under the seat.
As I was about to sit down, my phone buzzed.
Mr. Aditya:Tshabina, Sandra bought coffee for the team, but had to follow me to meet some people. The coffee is in the lobby, yours is the orange one. I asked her to order you an orange americano.
I blew out a harsh breath. This man… seriously.
