During the journey, I felt uneasy. Many things were running through my mind, but I couldn't find any answers. I didn't even dare to glance at the man beside me. My anxiety about who he really was made me tense, and I hesitated to start a conversation.
Once again, the question of his identity disturbed me. Ever since Damar joined Global Kimia, I had been suspicious. It was rare for someone without experience and fresh out of college to be hired by Global Kimia. But at that time, I didn't dwell on it and quickly dismissed my curiosity.
I should have been suspicious again when I heard rumors that Damar had a close relationship with one of Global Kimia's directors. But now, I realized it wasn't just a close relationship—he might actually be connected to the owner of the company.
What should I do? Why was I worrying about something uncertain? My hands even felt clammy as I recalled badmouthing and criticizing Global Kimia's management in front of Damar.
Oh! No wonder he easily got the position of division head. It seems my frustration was pointless because no matter what I contributed to Global Kimia, the choice would still fall on Damar.
I shifted in my seat, the sound of the leather rubbing against my dress far too loud in the confined space of the car. My legs were tense, knees pressed together, as though I could physically hold myself together that way. Damar, on the other hand, looked impossibly composed. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift, humming softly to a tune only he seemed to hear. That calmness made me even more nervous.
"Does the outfit fit you?" Damar's voice broke the silence. The last time I heard his voice was when he answered a phone call earlier. I was still trying to figure out his connection to Handoko Wiratman, but that didn't ease my nervousness about the worst possible outcome I had imagined.
"It fits," I answered briefly, still not daring to look at him. Silence fell between us again, neither of us making an effort to talk.
Could it be that Damar planned all this on purpose? Especially since I had always been curt and ignored him. Was this his way of getting revenge on me?
A shiver ran down my spine, and my desire to meet Handoko Wiratman vanished.
The silence between us thickened like fog, stretching over the car's interior. The only sound was the soft purr of the engine and the occasional rustle of trees outside. I wanted to scream just to break the pressure in my chest. Why couldn't he just explain what was going on? Or at least give me a clue? Every second of uncertainty felt like torture.
"Are you feeling unwell?" he asked again. The problem wasn't my body—it was my mind. It was a mess, and I couldn't think straight.
"Yeah… uh… no, I'm fine," I stammered. Calm yourself, Bulan. Act like nothing is wrong.
"You look pale," he remarked, glancing at me briefly.
"It's… because of the cold," I replied randomly. I held my breath, hoping it would somehow ease my uneasiness.
Damar had trapped me in a situation I didn't understand. There was nothing I could do now but surrender to whatever was about to happen.
"Do you want to wear my sweater too?" he offered. I quickly shook my head. I wasn't that cold that I needed two sweaters.
"Are your feet cold too?" he asked again, turning up the car's heater. Why is he asking so many questions? Wouldn't it be better if he just stayed quiet? His voice is only making me more awkward.
"Just say if you're uncomfortable," he added. How could I tell him what I was feeling when he was the source of all my worries?
"It looks like we'll arrive sooner than expected," he said. I glanced at the road, which was indeed quieter than usual for a weekend. But that wasn't my main concern. I was actually hoping for the worst traffic jam ever so we wouldn't reach our destination. My desire to attend Handoko Wiratman's birthday party had completely vanished along with my growing suspicions about the man sitting beside me.
I started thinking about my fate once we arrived. Could I still pretend not to know anything?
I imagined scenarios in my head like a child scared of the dark. What if the party was just a setup? What if everyone there already knew who Damar really was—who I really was? What if I walked into that villa only to be laughed at, ridiculed, exposed? I hated that my brain worked overtime like this, but I couldn't stop it.
"Do you want to stop and get a drink?" Damar offered as we pulled into a gas station. What I really wanted was to go back to Jakarta.
"No," I replied, unenthusiastically. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the car's side mirror. The excitement on my face was long gone, and my makeup was probably ruined by now. Not that I cared. Since I didn't respond, Damar stepped out of the car.
The unsettling thoughts in my head gave me a headache. I winced and leaned my head against the window.
The sound of the car door opening made me pretend to be asleep. Better to fake sleep than engage in more conversation with him.
I heard Damar clear his throat. A few moments passed, yet he still hadn't started the car. My curiosity got the better of me, and I slowly opened my eyes—only to find his palm pressed against my forehead. My eyes shot open completely.
"I thought you had a fever," he said, pulling his hand away.
"I'm fine," I insisted for the umpteenth time. Did my face really look that bad?
"I'm just… a little sleepy," I added as an excuse.
"We're almost there," he informed me.
"Did Mr. Handoko invite a lot of people?" I asked, trying to gauge the situation. My mind kept imagining the worst—that Damar was planning to humiliate me at the party.
"I don't know. We'll see when we get there," he replied.
"You should go home without me later. I plan to stay over at a friend's house. One of my college friends lives near Puncak," I lied, hoping to avoid going back with him.
"Friend?" He frowned, clearly not believing me. It was as if he knew I was making it up, but I forced myself to look serious. I made up the excuse on the spot just to avoid being alone with him any longer. Even though he seems nice, I still don't know what he's planning.
"Are you sure?" he pressed. I nodded firmly.
"No, you're still coming home with me. You don't know this area. You might not even find your friend's house," he said firmly.
"I do know the address," I argued.
"Another time. You came with me, so you'll go home with me," he said without looking at me. He started the car again and focused on the road ahead.
I held my breath as I noticed the irritation on his face. I still couldn't figure out why he brought me to Handoko Wiratman's birthday party. The guessing game was giving me a headache.
"I'll take you to meet your friend some other time," he added.
"That's not necessary. I just thought of it since we happened to be in Puncak," I said with a forced smile. Damn it! He definitely knows I'm lying.
Time passed, and boredom settled in as the situation remained against me. Damar slowed the car as we approached a large villa. I held my breath, staring outside.
This must be Handoko Wiratman's villa. Luxury cars lined the road, leading into the property. Judging by the number of cars, it seemed the party wasn't too crowded yet.
I clenched my arms tightly, dreading what was to come. I was in an unfamiliar place, with a man I barely knew. If my fears turned out to be true, what would happen to me?
The villa looked majestic, but unwelcoming. The high iron gate was half open, as if inviting us in and warning us to turn around at the same time. My chest tightened. This wasn't just a party. This was something else. Something personal. And I wasn't ready for it.
Damar took off his sweater after parking the car. As if sensing my gaze, he turned to me, making me flustered.
"Let's go," he said. I held my breath when I noticed his batik shirt—it had the exact same pattern as mine. How do I even begin to say how embarrassing this is?
"Are you still cold?" he asked when I didn't remove my sweater. Slowly, I pulled it off, my face heating up from sheer embarrassment. How did I end up wearing matching clothes with him?
"I'll carry the gift. You go ahead and get out first," Damar said casually, as if nothing was wrong. He seemed completely unbothered and confident in his matching attire.
I took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. My hand reached for the door handle but hesitated when I saw people walking around outside. Too many people. And I don't have the confidence to step out in this outfit. Not because it's bad, but because Damar is wearing the same thing.
"Hurry up, they've been waiting for you," a woman's voice called from outside.
"Grandfather said he won't start the event until you arrive," she added. (*)