Days? She hated that word. Because if she actually did the math, her time with Kala over the years amounted to little more than his three-day layovers. Even when they managed a week or two, it was carved out of his twenty-five days of annual leave. So, don't talk to her about days; Risa utterly loathed those four letters. How could a shapeless noun hurt her this deeply? If "Day" were a person, Risa would punch them right in the jaw. Bastard—whoever dared to take that shape. How dare they keep her and Kala apart.
“I’d wipe the word from every manuscript if I could,” Risa grumbled, shutting her laptop with a snap.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Liefje, I’m making some noodles. Do you want some?” Kala asked from the doorway.
Risa rose from her chair and followed him to the kitchen. It had been over seventy-two hours since they’d stepped foot outside; they were now on their fourth day of being stuck in the apartment, not going anywhere at all. Every two days, Kala would head out for groceries while Risa stayed busy writing in her room. She knew she was here for a vacation and to accept Kala’s proposal, but an idea could strike at any moment, and it was far too precious to let slip away.
Despite the limited activities within the unit, Kala seemed to thoroughly enjoy their domestic routine—filled with meals, movies, chess, and video calls with Dea, who kept complaining that she wanted to join them. Yesterday, Kala had found a Monopoly set at an Asian minimarket, so the three of them played together, even as Dea balanced the game with her university assignments back in Amsterdam Zuid.
Risa began chopping vegetables while watching Kala pull extra ingredients from the fridge. “Dublin’s weather really is unpredictable, isn’t it? Perfect for a murder scene, honestly. Especially with the woods here being so lush—just like that novel we read.”
Kala snorted, filling a pot with water. “Dublin weather is famous for having ‘four seasons in one day.’ It can be freezing one minute, sunny the next, then right back to freezing. But I don’t mind, as long as I’m stuck here with you, Liefje. Dea won the Monopoly game yesterday; I think we need a rematch so that kid’s head doesn't get too big.”
“The problem is—if we stay in here forever, how are you ever going to propose?” Risa teased with a light laugh.
He didn't answer, appearing far too busy sorting through the instant noodles in the drawer. Most Asians had a soft spot for them, so it wasn't hard to find varieties from multiple countries at the local Asian market. However, Risa’s top choice was always from home—the seasoning was bolder than anything else. Unhealthy? Well, they were on vacation; what was the point of being too healthy? Risa shook her head as she saw Kala looking conflicted over the choices.
“Just go with the chicken broth flavor, Mas. We’re adding plenty of vegetables, eggs, and sausages anyway. We don't want the base flavor to be too overwhelming.” Risa set down her knife and grabbed a tissue.
Kala squinted, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked at her. “Don't you usually love the Soto flavor? We should go with that.”
“Trust me on this one. You spend too much time eating airplane food; you don’t understand the art of instant noodles. Do I need to consult Ajinomoto-san?” She bit her lip, unable to stop herself from imagining a consultation with some elegant, kimono-clad Ajinomoto lady.
“Risa!” Kala grinned widely. “I don’t know if I’ve finally gone crazy, but I can still laugh at a joke like that.” He grabbed two packs, chuckling to himself. “Chicken broth it is. No need to bother Ajinomoto-san.”
***
By the final week of early February, the weather turned slightly more hospitable. They began retracing their planned Dublin itinerary: the somber Garda Museum, the Library Bar at the Central Hotel, and the Guinness Storehouse with its rich history. It was a perfect wrap-up to their first week in Dublin. What amused her was the fact that there was still no proposal. Kala’s composure made her wonder exactly where he intended to do it.
The second week was dedicated to visiting various historical ruins, aided by a few patches of sunlight that made outdoor activities less treacherous. Even so, Risa remained in the dark about the where and how of the proposal. But as time slipped away, she finally realized the answer would likely come on their very last day. When the air felt a little less heavy and the sky less somber than the days before, Kala took her to Phoenix Park.
“There are so many wild deer,” Risa said, her hand tucked into Kala’s.
He followed her gaze. “Watch your step, Liefje. The grass is slick from last night’s rain.”
“What time do we head back tomorrow, Mas?” Her eyes were still fixed on the herd of adult deer and their adorable fawns.
“We’ll go straight to the airport after check-out.”
Dublin was still windy, but her body seemed to have finally acclimated. Because she’d been warned to wear the right shoes, the boots Risa wore gave her a bit of extra height. She didn't have to strain her neck quite as much to look up at Kala, who towered over her effortlessly. They shared an instinctive smile as their eyes met, and Kala tucked her hand into his jacket pocket.
“I want to get married in Amsterdam, Mas,” Risa said, watching her footing on the slippery grass. “We wouldn't be able to invite many people if we held it in Indonesia.”
Kala squeezed her hand firmly, then softened the grip to a gentle rub across her palm. “Okay.”
“Most of my friends are already married. It wouldn't be very funny if I only invited Norra, would it?” she joked, though Kala didn't seem to find it particularly amusing this time.
Her high school and university years had been spent with Ardo; the reason was clear—Risa didn't want old friends staring at Kala and starting a comparison game. She knew she couldn't control what others thought, but Kala was the most important person in her life now, and she felt a duty to protect his reputation from those gossiping little rats.
“That’s an oak tree, but what’s the other one?” Risa asked, changing the subject.
Kala gave a low hum. “Beech. The wood is versatile; it's used for furniture, flooring, and construction. You can even build houses with it.”
“Wow… versatile,” Risa murmured.
They walked further, moving behind a cluster of trees. Kala let go of her hand when Risa reached out to touch the bark. He shoved both hands into his parka pockets, watching her with a smile. For a moment, she forgot why she was even there, lost in the natural textures and scents around her. It suddenly made her want to write a fantasy book where fairies and unicorns played all day.
Risa was busy admiring the texture of the beech bark—slightly rough yet feeling slick beneath her fingertips—when a tall shadow loomed over her from behind. Before she could turn around, something cold and shimmering dangled before her eyes. A ring with a tiny floral petal swung at the end of a white-gold chain. For a heartbeat, her eyes widened, her heart hammered against her ribs, and her lips curled into a radiant smile.
“Liefje,” Kala whispered right into her ear, holding the necklace in front of her face while remaining behind her. “I don’t really know what to say, but... will you marry me?”
Risa reached out and touched the ring hanging from the chain. “Primrose?” she whispered, breathless.
“Primrose. Your favorite flower.” Kala wrapped his free arm around her in a hug. “I promise, you’re safe with me.”
“Yes, I will,” she whispered, lifting her face to meet his gaze.