He bought a latte, toast, and a fruit salad. Ardo knocked on Arisa’s door several times. He wouldn’t stop until the woman opened it. This was Bali, after all—people usually came here to unwind. But that crazy writer had locked herself up for days. Ardo knew her habits; that wicked woman wouldn’t come out unless someone forced her to. If she hadn’t dated him before, she probably wouldn’t have gone anywhere at all. Because back then, Ardo had been her compass—her personal Google Maps.
“Sa! Open the door!” Ardo shouted. “I’ll break it down if you don’t!”
He had been making a scene for five minutes, trying to ignore the curious looks from passersby. After breakfast at the hotel restaurant, Ardo had gone out to buy the “unhealthy” food in his hands. There was no better way to persuade her than with something sweet. Ardo didn’t care if Arisa was Kala’s girlfriend—they had spent this vacation together. It was impossible not to develop new feelings by now.
Moments later, the door opened. Ardo froze, suddenly embarrassed when he found himself face-to-face with her. She probably hadn’t slept well—or at all—because her eyes looked swollen to him. Still, he said nothing and slipped inside before she could protest. Without waiting to be invited, Ardo placed the food on the desk beside her laptop and started pulling open all the curtains.
“The world’s this beautiful, and you choose to lock yourself in?” he teased.
Arisa yawned and sank back into her chair. She continued typing something, then sipped the latte Ardo had brought. “I’m busy writing, Do. I’ve got a lot of ideas lately. Besides, I’m too lazy to go anywhere.” She lifted the cup slightly. “Thanks.”
Ardo folded his arms and forced a smile. Liar. He knew she was lying. He was certain Arisa had argued with Kala and was now shutting herself off. But he wouldn’t bring it up—he didn’t want to get kicked out. God, a man like him, in a woman’s room, and unable to do anything. The situation was pure torture.
She wore a thick jacket, the hood pulled over her head, making her look like one of the Teletubbies. Ardo spotted the AC remote—no wonder it was freezing in here. Her choice of temperature probably matched her mood. Cold. Maybe even colder toward Kala. If that was the case, then Ardo saw an opportunity. Stealing someone else’s girlfriend suddenly felt like a new achievement waiting to happen for the mountain-loving influencer.
Arisa gave him a blank stare. “Sorry, I’m not in the mood to argue. Can you leave? I’ve got a headache… wrote five chapters already. I just need to lie down.”
“Finish your food first. I need to make sure you’re still alive.”
She frowned. “Fine, I will. Please, I don’t have the energy to get mad at you right now.”
“No, eat first, Sa,” Ardo said gently but firmly.
With a reluctant sigh, Arisa picked up the toast. Ardo watched her eat with quiet relief, then dragged another chair closer and sat beside her, reaching for her laptop. He’d wanted to see what she was working on—but the desktop wallpaper stopped him cold. It was a photo of their trip to Greece.
Arisa chuckled softly when she noticed how his face tightened with irritation. Kala looked ridiculously tall in the picture—or maybe Ardo’s mind was just playing tricks on him. That Dutch man was only three centimeters taller, tops.
“This… Athens? Greece?!” Ardo asked skeptically, pointing at the photo. “You’ve been there, and yet you still wanna go around Jogja and Malang? You’re insane.”
She snorted. “If I were sane, I wouldn’t be writing books.”
The ruins, the columns, the ancient terraces—it was clearly Greece. Ardo had never been there but had seen plenty of photos and documentaries about it. Kala, apparently, lived a life far more luxurious than his own. No comparison at all between them.
Ardo grinned, pointing at the romantic picture on her screen. “And you called me the hedonistic one? Please—your boyfriend looks way more spoiled than I am.”
Arisa shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. “He’s a pilot, Do. Of course he’s seen amazing places. His taste… shocked me at first, honestly. You know me, I’m a homebody. But I don’t mind going places—as long as it’s not hell.”
Ardo ran a hand down his face. “You’re unbelievable.”
She grinned. “Well, annoying you is my kind of entertainment.” Then she continued eating.
Truth was, she didn’t have to do anything—just existing was enough to drive him crazy. Ardo turned his focus to her open photo gallery instead. There were hundreds of pictures. Arisa explained that she only kept the good ones on her laptop; the rest were stored on external drives—one for her, one for Kala.
“Just the two of you?” Ardo asked through gritted teeth.
Arisa nodded. “Sometimes his sister came along. Dea—she’s still in college. We didn’t do anything, Do, I swear. Don’t overthink it. Kala’s not like you. Like I told you before, he’s my tour guide. My brain just… shuts down around him. I let him take me anywhere, because I feel safe with him. I trust Kala.”
Ardo’s chest burned seeing their photos together—hugging, cheek kisses, holding hands. The worst part? Every image was in perfect resolution. Ardo knew cameras; these weren’t taken with a phone. Did Kala also happen to love photography? Damn it. He raked his fingers through his hair, forcing a thin smile.
“So you don’t feel safe with me?” Ardo asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Physically, yeah, you’ve kept me safe. Thanks for that. But mentally… you make my head spin. I overthink everything. Why does Ardo act like this? Why does he say that? My brain won’t stop. You know, the most primitive instinct of any woman is to feel safe. With you… I’m in survival mode. Always worried, scared, angry.”
“If I did everything he does—exactly the same—would you leave him for me? I could do it better, if you just gave me the chance.”
Arisa held his gaze for a moment, then gave a faint smile. “As far as I remember, love doesn’t come with a formula. And thank God for that—I hate math. Even if you did everything the same, it wouldn’t feel the same. Only God knows why two people end up loving each other.”