That day, the sky was clear—but Aurelina's heart felt heavy.
The nameless letter she'd received last week still sat in her pencil case, folded neatly like something precious—or something too deep to unfold again. She had read it in secret, maybe dozens of times, but the curiosity and ache in her chest refused to go away.
> "To you, who once waited for someone you never knew…"
Those words echoed in her head all day.
Too specific.
Too... personal.
---
In the small classroom where the writing workshop was held, Kak R—who had always been her role model and favorite person to talk to—suddenly felt unfamiliar.
He wasn't just a mentor anymore.
The way Rey looked at her.
The way he stayed silent when she talked about her mother.
The way he subtly caught his breath when she happened to mention her last name—Hakim.
All of it started to feel like puzzle pieces, quietly waiting to be put together.
---
By the end of the session, Rey was back to his usual self: small jokes, soft smiles, and praise for Aurelina's writing.
But Aurel had started to notice the little things she used to ignore.
Rey never asked about her father—but seemed to know he was never around.
Rey never said where he was from—but always grew quiet when Aurel talked about her mother's hometown.
And most unsettling of all: the way Rey looked at her when she didn't notice she was being watched.
There was something in those eyes.
Longing? Regret? Or a secret?
---
Aurelina decided to find out on her own.
That night, she opened her laptop and started searching.
She typed one name: Rey Darmawan.
No relevant results. Just one or two old mentions, anonymous writer tags, mostly inactive.
But when she typed: "Writer R - Literasi Nusantara,"
she found a simple author profile:
> "R" — Freelance writer. Often writes about loss, love, and the journey of coming home.
Aurelina scrolled slowly.
One article caught her attention. The title read:
> "For Those Who Were Waited For But Never Came."
Her heart began to race.
---
> "…I was once someone who was waited for.
But I chose not to return.
Because sometimes, it's better to remain a silent shadow…
than to return as a wound."
Aurel bit her bottom lip.
Her eyes burned. Her hands trembled.
Every sentence felt like it was speaking directly to her.
As if someone knew her story—
even though she had never told it.
Or had she?
---
The next day, she came to the workshop with a head full of questions.
Rey greeted her like always.
> "Good morning, Aurelina."
That greeting usually felt warm.
But today, Aurel held his gaze a little longer.
> "Can I ask you something, Kak?"
Rey looked slightly surprised, but smiled. "Of course."
> "Why did you write that letter to me?" she asked quietly.
Rey paused. Too long for someone usually quick with words.
> "I… just wanted you to know you're not alone," he finally said.
> "But you do know who I am," Aurelina stared deeper into his eyes.
"You know… too much, Kak."
---
Rey lowered his head.
His left hand clenched the edge of the desk.
> "Sometimes… we know someone from afar.
But we have no right to come any closer," he said, his voice barely audible.
Aurelina blinked back tears.
She didn't know why she wanted to cry.
But her heart felt like it was being split open—
not because of loss,
but because she was finally starting to find something
she had been searching for all her life.
> "Who are you really, Kak Rey?"
Rey looked at her.
For a long, long time.
But he didn't answer.
---
Outside the room, the rain had started to fall.
Aurelina stood still. Rey said nothing.
And between the soft tapping of raindrops on the tin roof,
there were two hearts on the edge:
One holding back a truth.
The other bracing for it.