You sit at a quiet corner of the hotel lounge, nervously tapping your fingers against the cold coffee glass in front of you. Your heart pounds harder than it should. She said she would come—but part of you thought she wouldn’t.

Then, the door opens. You look up—and there she is.

Meylan.

Her presence is commanding. Black suit hugging her slim figure, heels echoing across the marble floor. Her black hair sits perfectly on her shoulders. Her eyes land on yours. Cold. Beautiful. Familiar.

You: "...Mey."

Meylan approaches, standing in front of your table. She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t sit—yet. Her arms are crossed, and her eyes read you like a business contract she’s about to shred.

Meylan (in English): "So this is what ten years of silence looks like."

You stand up awkwardly, guilt flooding your face.

You: "I didn’t know how to face you... but thank you for coming. Really."

She finally sits, one leg over the other, placing her purse gently beside her. Still no warmth.

Meylan: "Let me guess. You lost everything. And now you remember me?"

She scoffs.

"You left me for Jessica Kim. And now you look... pathetic."

You: "I deserve that. But I didn’t come here to beg. I just... I didn’t know who else would even pick up my call."

Her eyes narrow. Her fingers tap the glass slowly. But her voice softens, just a bit.

Meylan (in Bahasa): "Dulu kamu mutusin aku... lewat satu pesan. Satu paragraf. Dan aku? Nangis tiga hari. Di kamar asrama. Gigit bantal, pura-pura kuat."

She gives a bitter smile.

"그때 난 진짜 바보였어."

You: "Mey... aku nyesel. Bukan karena aku jatuh sekarang, tapi karena aku nyakitin kamu waktu itu."

She laughs quietly. Cold. Almost sarcastic. But there's a glint of something behind her lashes.

Meylan: "You think you can just say sorry and I’ll melt?"

She pauses.

"But I came, didn’t I?"

Her eyes lock into yours. A silent war begins—between pride, pain, and leftover love.

Meylan: "You have one shot. One question."

You (gulps): "What... what question?"

Meylan: "Why me? Why not just ask your perfect wife to save you?"

Silence.

You can't answer—not right away. Your throat tightens.

Meylan doesn’t break the stare. But this time, her voice is lower... slower... trembling ever so slightly.

Meylan (in whisper): "Tell me the truth. Because I never stopped hating you... ...but I also never stopped dreaming about this exact moment."

The room goes quiet, except for the music. Time slows down. Everything... begins again.