MAKING PEACE WITH MY SCARS

The office lights were still blazing when the clock struck nine.

Nova neatly stacked the files on her desk, her movements quick and practiced. Across the room, Arka, her young assistant, remained motionless in the doorway.

There was something unusual in his gaze something sharper than the admiration a subordinate should have for his superior.

The silence in the room felt forced, heavy with something neither of them was willing to name.

Nova tried to ignore the strange flutter in her chest and focused instead on the ambition that had consumed her for years: becoming the youngest director at one of the city’s most prestigious consulting firms.

“Is there anything left to finish?” Arka finally asked.

His voice was low, almost swallowed by the hum of the air conditioner in the corner.

Nova shook her head without looking up.

“Three proposals. They have to be sent first thing tomorrow morning.”

Her fingers paused over a blue folder before moving again.

Arka didn’t leave.

He should have been heading for the elevator by now, but his shoes remained firmly planted on the polished marble floor.

Beyond the glass windows, the city lights flickered to life one by one, filling the growing silence between them.

“I can help,” Arka said.

It wasn’t the kind of offer an employee normally made to a superior.

Something in his tone finally made Nova look up.

Their eyes met.

She noticed the faint crease between his brows, as though even he wasn’t entirely certain about what he’d just said.

Nova glanced back at her monitor and let the silence linger.

Arka was still standing in the doorway, holding his breath in the brightly lit room.

“Aren’t you going home, Arka? Is all your work finished?”

She didn’t look away from the screen.

Arka walked closer and placed a cup of warm coffee on her desk. His hand trembled slightly.

“I can’t go home until I know you’re okay, Miss Nova.”

His voice was quiet, almost protective.

Nova gave him a faint smile, assuming it was simply another expression of professional loyalty.

She didn’t realize that behind Arka’s polite smile was a much larger plan a plan to have Nova entirely for himself, without sharing her with the outside world.

He stood beside her desk, his shadow falling across Nova’s back.

He watched the curve of her shoulders as she leaned toward the screen, counting the seconds in a silence broken only by the soft whir of the cooling system.

“This is without sugar, right?”

Nova picked up the cup. Her fingertips briefly brushed the back of Arka’s hand.

“Yes. I remember you said last week that you were cutting back.”

Nova finally turned to him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“You remember?”

Arka smiled, the corners of his lips lifting evenly.

“I remember a lot of things about you.”

The hum of the air conditioner suddenly seemed louder.

Nova turned back to the screen, but her fingers stopped moving across the keyboard.

In the reflection of the monitor, she could still see Arka standing exactly where he was, his eyes fixed on her back.

“Arka,” Nova said softly.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been working late a lot lately.”

“There are a lot of projects. I need to make sure everything gets done.”

Nova nodded, although there was something in his voice she didn’t completely trust.

She reached for her bag on the floor, pretending to search for something that wasn’t actually missing.

Arka took a step back, giving her room to stand.

But the distance between them was still too small far too small for two coworkers standing alone on the seventh floor of an almost empty building at nine at night.

“I’ll walk you to the parking lot,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

“No need. I can go myself.”

“I know a shortcut to the basement. The corridor lights on this floor keep going out.”

Nova looked at him again.

Arka had already turned toward the door, his expression neutral. But his jaw was tense, the muscles in his neck visible beneath the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“All right,” Nova finally said.

She picked up her laptop bag, holding its weight like a barrier between herself and Arka as he walked ahead and waited at the doorway.

Arka left the office with a smile on his face.

Nova shut down her laptop and headed toward the parking lot.

She approached her car, ready to begin the drive home.

But before getting inside, she stood beside the vehicle, her fingers resting inside the pockets of her blazer.

The parking garage was nearly empty. Only three other cars remained in the row.

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered once before stabilizing.

“This is too much for a coworker.”

The words escaped her before she realized she’d spoken aloud.

Her voice echoed faintly between the concrete pillars.

The small red velvet box was still open in her palm.

Inside lay a gleaming gold necklace.

Nova lifted the chain, letting the initials NA slowly spin beneath the light.

N for Nova.

A for Arka.

Together, without a space between them, they looked like a single word.

Her car was still locked.

Nova didn’t get in immediately.

She ran her thumb over the surface of the box, feeling the soft velvet beneath her skin. There was a tiny mark in one corner, as though someone had pressed a finger into it too hard.

Arka’s cologne still lingered.

It wasn’t overpowering, but it was enough to remind her that he’d been close.

She knew that scent from late-night meetings, from the coffee he brought without being asked, from the chair beside hers that he always seemed to pull just a little closer.

“Six months,” she murmured.

That was how long they’d worked side by side.

Long enough for Nova to know that Arka never gave gifts to anyone at the office.

He never sent birthday cards.

Never joined the office cake fund.

Never offered anyone a ride unless they were genuinely going the same way.

Nova placed the necklace back inside the box.

The lid closed with a soft click.

She held the box against her chest, surprised by how little it weighed.

Back on the twelfth floor, her desk was still buried beneath files.

The Q3 project was waiting.

Emails remained unanswered.

Monday morning’s presentation was only half finished.

All of it had seemed so important when she’d shut down her laptop.

Now, standing alone in the nearly empty parking garage, Nova felt something different.

Not relief.

Not anxiety.

Something more like a tiny crack in a wall that had always been tightly sealed.

She opened the car door and placed the box on the passenger seat.

Not on the dashboard.

Not in the glove compartment.

On the seat.

As though it had a place of its own.

The engine came to life with its familiar hum.

Nova didn’t drive away immediately.

She looked into the rearview mirror and saw herself.

She looked older than usual.

Stray strands of hair had fallen loose around her temples. The dark circles beneath her eyes were no longer completely hidden by foundation.

Her phone vibrated.

A message from her mother:

Dinner this weekend?

Nova typed:

Insha Allah.

She sent it without checking whether her schedule would actually allow it.

Then another notification appeared.

An email from Arka.

Sent three minutes earlier.

I’m sorry if that was too sudden. I just wanted you to know that someone is paying attention.

Nova read it twice.

Then a third time.

Her finger hovered over the reply button.

Then slowly dropped to the steering wheel.

The traffic home was as bad as usual.

Nova tuned the radio to the same frequency she always listened to the same songs, the same host, the same familiar voices.

But every few minutes, her eyes drifted toward the velvet box beside her.

At a red light on Jalan Sudirman, she noticed a married couple sharing an umbrella on the sidewalk.

The man tilted the umbrella toward his wife, allowing his own left shoulder to become soaked.

Nova looked away.

Her apartment on the eighth floor felt quieter than usual.

She placed her shoes neatly on the rack.

Hung her blazer.

Then stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a secondhand sofa from her older brother, a coffee table, and a bookshelf that was still less than half full.

She placed the box on the table.

Opened it.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

That night, Nova sat alone, turning the necklace between her fingers.

She traced the joined initials repeatedly, as though trying to understand what they meant.

The following day, heavy rain poured over Jakarta as Nova arrived at the office building.

She stopped near a marble column and watched the rain slide down the enormous glass windows.

The necklace from the night before still felt warm against her palm.

“You’re soaked.”

Arka’s voice came from beside her.

Nova turned.

A black raincoat covered his shoulders, droplets of water shining in his hair.

“So are you.”

Arka removed his raincoat, folded it neatly, and draped it over his arm.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I saw you getting out of the taxi.”

Nova said nothing.

Her hand instinctively reached for the necklace hidden beneath the collar of her blouse.

“Nova.”

“Hmm?”

Arka took a step closer, blocking her view of the rain.

His eyes were red around the edges.

Not from exhaustion.

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

“Before you get into the elevator. Before I lose my nerve again.”

Nova could hear the footsteps of a cleaning staff member in the corridor nearby.

The static crackle of the security desk radio.

The rain growing heavier outside.

“I love you, Nova.”

His voice trembled at the end.

Not dramatically.

It was the tremor of someone who had been holding something inside for far too long.

“I’ll support all your dreams,” he continued. “More than anyone else in the world.”

Nova looked into his eyes.

They were glistening.

Real tears threatened to spill over, though he seemed determined not to let them fall.

He was trying not to cry in front of her.

“You don’t know my dreams,” Nova finally said.

“I know you have them.”

Arka’s answer came immediately.

“That’s enough. I’ll learn them as we go.”

Nova fell silent.

The sincerity on his young face seemed so pure.

Too pure.

Too fast.

Too easy to promise in the lobby of an office building on a rainy afternoon.

Yet her hand moved almost unconsciously, searching for warmth in the cold air.

“This is crazy,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

Arka nodded.

“But I’ve been crazy since you laughed during that meeting last month.”

Nova remembered.

Her presentation slide had accidentally been replaced with a picture of a cat, and she’d burst out laughing in front of the finance division.

Arka had said nothing.

But she’d noticed the way his eyes had curved with his smile.

“You won’t regret this?” Nova asked.

“I regret waiting three months to be honest with you.”

Nova imagined a perfect life.

A life filled with unwavering support.

The image was vague, blurry, but warm.

She slowly nodded.

Arka stepped closer.

His arms opened.

And Nova allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace that smelled of rain, detergent, and something older—something reminiscent of the wooden cupboards in her parents’ home.

Rainwater seeped through the gaps around the glass doors, dampening their clothes.

It was cold.

But Arka held her tighter, his chin resting against the top of her head.

And somehow, the rain seemed very far away.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks into months.

And before Nova realized it, she was standing beneath a lavish wedding canopy in a long white gown.

She walked toward Arka.

His hand reached for hers.

His grip was tighter than it needed to be.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

His fingers closed firmly around her wrist, refusing to let go even after they reached the altar.

Nova smiled shyly, her cheeks warming.

She glanced toward the guests and noticed several of her former coworkers whispering among themselves.

“They’re jealous,” Arka murmured.

His voice was low but firm.

“They know I’m the lucky one.”

Her colleagues really did look envious.

They saw a beautiful couple standing beneath an elegant wedding canopy, seemingly perfect and deeply in love.

Nova recognized Rini from the finance division wiping the corner of her eye.

Dimas from marketing nodded approvingly.

“Nova finally got married,” someone whispered from behind them.

“To a younger man, too.”

Nova felt as though she’d won everything.

Her career.

Her reputation.

And the sincere love of a younger man.

Five years of hard work had built her professional reputation.

Now she stood at what everyone told her was the peak of a perfect life.

“I promise I’ll always be here,” Arka said.

He gently lifted Nova’s chin.

His eyes were sharp.

Too sharp.

They seemed to search deep into hers, looking for something she didn’t know she was supposed to give him.

Nova nodded.

Her voice caught in her throat.

She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to feel safe.

But when Arka whispered one word into her ear

“Mine.”

a chill ran down Nova’s spine.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t a playful whisper between newlyweds.

It wasn’t tenderness.

It sounded like a claim.

A demand for ownership.

“Yes,” Nova replied automatically.

Her lips felt stiff.

Arka smiled with satisfaction.

His fingers tightened around hers once again.

Nova didn’t yet understand that his words were not an expression of love.

They were a declaration of possession.

Outside the venue, the afternoon sky turned orange.

Nova looked at their reflection in the glass beside the altar.

Two figures dressed in white.

Perfectly matched from a distance.

She didn’t notice the way Arka watched every movement she made.

Counting.

Remembering.

Keeping track.

After the wedding, life moved forward.

Two years passed quickly.

Then the sound of a newborn baby’s cry broke the silence of a private hospital delivery room.

Nova held her baby girl, Alana, against her chest, overwhelmed with emotion.

Arka stood beside her, his expression difficult to read.

“She looks just like you, Nova.”

He gently touched Alana’s flushed cheek.

His fingers moved carefully, almost as though he were afraid the baby’s delicate skin might tear.

“I hope she doesn’t grow up as busy as her mother.”

Nova froze.

Her hand supporting Alana’s head stopped for half a second.

She looked at Arka, trying to meet his eyes.

But he’d already turned toward the window.

“You haven’t slept since last night,” Nova said hoarsely, choosing to change the subject.

“I have something to check at the office.”

“Today?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Arka finally looked at her.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

His eyes didn’t.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“You’re finally a mother.”

Nova pulled Alana closer to her chest.

The scent of milk and antiseptic filled the room.

She wanted to say something.

Anything.

But her throat felt dry.

Arka’s remark hung in the air like a plastic curtain between them.

“I’ll take some leave,” Nova finally said.

“Two months. Maybe three.”

Arka nodded.

“Good.”

He walked to the bedside table and picked up his car keys from among the congratulatory cards.

“I’ll stop by the office. I left some documents there.”

“Arka”

The door had already closed before Nova could finish.

Alana made a tiny sound in her arms, her little mouth moving as if searching for something.

Nova looked down at her daughter.

She watched the baby’s chest rise and fall.

And in that moment, she made herself a promise.

She would give Alana the best life she could.

Without sacrificing the career she had spent years building.

But she didn’t know yet that the very things she had fought so hard to preserve would soon become the weapons Arka used against her.

And the man she once believed would protect her would slowly become the person she needed protection from