Occasions

CHAPTER 10 | Niatan Foul

Unlike me who was currently feeling anxious if lingering here, afraid if only suddenly the man I had been avoiding all this time suddenly came here. My head was always looking around, looking around.

“Why are you, anyway?” ask Putra. I just shook my head in doubt while smiling.

The son presented a glass of long black orange in front of me. Without being invited, I immediately sipped the concoction drink. With some ice cube inside, it really refreshes my throat which feels quite dehydrated. The fresh taste went straight to my brain.

“Where? Cute?” asked the son who had been watching me enjoy his drink. This time I answered with a nod of my head.

For a while, Putra and I were in small talk about the composition of this drink he was serving. I admit, this time the black coffee really feels fresh, matching the weather out there that is hot. And being able to take my mind off for a moment from the shadow of Reza that continues to be present in this memory.

Yeah, I still remember the first time she and I went to this place. Sitting joking together, telling each other about their lives. It's like getting to know each other, with nothing we cover up. Until the last time we came here, when he said to separate. Not approaching each other like before.

“Eh, Where's Reza? Isn't it always the two of you going everywhere?” Again the Son asked, and this question really felt right piercing the recesses of my heart.

Why is it that everyone I meet always asks the same question? Why did they ask just the whereabouts of the man? I would love to say, if you don't ask me, because I don't know anything about him anymore. In fact, I closed my eyes and ears to him. Perhaps my heart is closed too.

I tried to calm down and casually respond to that question that Son asked. Because I don't want to look weak or anything. “No idea too, we rarely go together, Put. Indeed why?”

“Indeed when did he last come here?” I asked unconsciously. I don't know why I asked like that, as if I missed her.

“Perhaps about a week ago. After finishing a glass of salted coffee ice, he went straight home. And always like that.” My son is sitting next to me telling stories.

A faint smile was drawn at the corner of my cheek, for some reason I felt good to hear this Son's story. Because I remember well when the man hated the taste of my favorite drink. Then why does the man always enjoy that glass of drink? Isn't that a little weird?

I didn't want to keep talking about the man to the Son, so I tried to shift the question to discuss something else. What else we talked about if it wasn't about coffee. Only that discussion is able to divert the Son from the previous discussion.

“Trus how do you plan to make a coffee shop branch? So?” I switched the conversation.

“So dong, it's done! You, anyway, over time did not come here, so do not know info.”

I laughed softly, and so did my son. I haven't been here in a long time and I completely shut myself off from any access that connects me to Reza's world, with all about him. I withdrew from the outside world to crouch inside the house, struggling with my own world.

Back to those times where I didn't know Reza.