Their dinner didn’t last long; Ardo soon asked her to head home because an issue suddenly came up in the auditing room. This time, it wasn’t about a broken video clip—he had to shoot a short segment to insert an ad. Lila couldn’t help but grow suspicious; sometimes it felt as if money came to Ardo as easily as a blink. His world was wild, almost ridiculous, and far beyond her logic.
“Traffic,” the man muttered.
Lila turned to her boyfriend. “Jakarta and traffic jams are soulmates. Destined. Inseparable.”
Ardo snorted. “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer.”
She only nodded, giving him an understanding smile. Earlier, they’d had dinner at a restaurant owned by a friend of a friend of his—receiving the best service and absolute privacy. Usually, they dined in private rooms, as if they were lovers meant to be hidden. But tonight, for once, they were allowed to sit on the open balcony, enjoying the soft night breeze and the city lights. Just the two of them. The place wouldn’t officially open to the public for another two weeks.
“But it was fun, really,” Lila said, trying to lift Ardo’s mood after his team’s sudden call had cut the evening short. “Dinner with the breeze felt so nice.”
Ardo smiled proudly. “Next time, I’ll take you somewhere even better. I promise.”
“I can’t wait,” she replied, beaming.
They often went to expensive, exquisite places—places Lila could never have afforded without Ardo. Yet, sometimes, she missed sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk, eating freshly fried pecel lele under a plastic tarp. With Ardo’s growing fame, that kind of date was impossible now.
She watched him concentrate on the road. “Do you ever miss eating at a food court, you know, standing in line and squeezing between people? Or just sitting at a street stall, those plastic chairs under a tent? I love that we always go to nice restaurants, but five-star food gets boring sometimes. Delicious, yes—but predictable.”
Ardo blinked slowly, then glanced at her. “Honestly? I miss that kind of freedom, too—before I became this well-known. But you know how hard it is now.”
“I’m sorry, Mas.” Lila realized she was asking for something too much.
Even though Ardo was a gym-goer, he was still quite down-to-earth when it came to food. On certain days, though, he’d refrain from fried or oily dishes, almost like fasting. Lila tried to understand, but was her wish really that difficult? All she wanted was to share a simple meal at a street stall with him. Ah well, perhaps she shouldn’t hope for too much. Before they got home—and before he left again—she decided to savor the moment they still had. Thank you, traffic jam.
“Did you ever do that with your ex? Eat by the street, watching cars go by?” Lila asked, curious about Ardo’s younger days.
“Why ask that all of a sudden?” Ardo chuckled. “Back then, I was just a broke college kid living off my mom’s allowance. Risa and I mostly dated in the campus canteen, the library, or watched movies when we could afford it.”
Lila laughed softly at the image. So Ardo had once been normal after all. But wait—dating in the library? What on earth did they even do there? She couldn’t imagine Ardo sitting still long enough to read a book, even for class.
“The campus library?” she asked.
“Not just that one,” Ardo said, shaking his head. “Every library in town, basically. She’d read for hours while I worked on assignments. Sometimes I thought, damn, I could pitch a tent and start a bonfire with those books just to pass the time. But I had no choice—if I told my mom I was just going on a date, she’d never let me go.”
“Oh my God, that’s such a funny kind of romance! So your excuse was ‘doing homework’? You two were adorable.” Lila covered her mouth, laughing.
“Don’t tease me. You know, it actually took me a long time to move on from her,” Ardo said, clearing his throat before glancing at her. “Had to meet you first before I could open my heart again.”
The words were so sweet Lila wanted to reach out and hug him. In another mood, she might have rolled her eyes at the cheesiness, but not tonight. She couldn’t feel jealous anymore when he talked about the only ex he’d ever truly struggled to forget. They were both living in the present now. She was here, beside him, and Ardo wasn’t the same man he used to be. They had both grown.
“Thank you, Mas,” Lila said softly.
“You’re welcome.” Ardo’s smile was gentle.
His smile was contagious—Lila couldn’t help but smile back. Ardo was like a beautifully wrapped gift that, once opened, revealed an entire universe inside: stars, galaxies, vast and dazzling, too large for her mind to grasp. What she felt for him was beautiful—and terrifying all at once.
When they finally reached the apartment, Ardo didn’t walk her to the door. He dropped her off by the curb. Lila understood. He was busy, and this wasn’t the time to be clingy. There would be other days for hugs and lingering goodbyes. For now, she needed to go home and rest. She had work in the morning.
“Finally home,” Lila murmured, sinking into the sofa.
Her gaze fell on Ardo’s fish tank. The little creatures swam in gentle circles, and the sight tugged at something tender inside her. She walked closer, sprinkling a bit of food on the surface. A small smile bloomed on her lips as she watched the four fish—Ardo said they were all female—nibble bit by bit. Somehow, watching them made her feel seen. Needed. Like her existence meant something.
“Eat well, girls. I’m going to rest,” she whispered, as if they could answer. Then she swayed toward the bedroom, swinging her purse lightly.
The next morning, she woke up to the noise of her buzzing phone. Ardo was calling early—he had to leave for an out-of-town trip. Again. It was nothing new to her. Still half-asleep, Lila mumbled a few incoherent replies before finally managing, “Take care, I love you,” and ending the call.
“The risk of dating an influencer,” she muttered, still with her eyes closed.
She’d get up around ten or eleven, she decided, and then get ready for work. She hadn’t slept early the night before—too happy to rest—so she’d stayed up watching a movie. Besides, she had the afternoon shift. Sleeping in a little wouldn’t hurt.