I used to think love was supposed to be warm.
Like holding a cup of tea on a rainy day.
Like falling asleep to the sound of your lover's breathing.
But lately… it just feels like suffocating in a room with no doors.
My phone vibrated again.
Reza ❤️
Call me.
I stared at it until the screen went dark. I hadn't replied to his last five texts. Not because I didn't want to. But because I didn't know how.
What am I supposed to say?
"I'm scared of you now"?
"I regret everything"?
"I wish we could undo it all"?
I pressed the side button and threw the phone onto my pillow.
Outside, the sun was setting. The orange hue melted into my bedroom walls like a soft bruise. I could hear the faint sound of the TV downstairs, my mom laughing at some sinetron, my dad's chair creaking.
If they found out…
If they knew what I did…
I cupped my stomach.
Still flat. Still innocent. Still a secret.
I hadn't even gone to the doctor yet. No tests. No checkups. Just late periods, sore breasts, and that sinking feeling inside me that whispered, you already know.
My phone vibrated again. I picked it up, hand shaking.
Reza ❤️
Please… pick up. Just talk to me.
I sighed and pressed the green button.
"Hello?"
"Winda…" Reza's voice came through, low and tender. Too tender. I hated how gentle he sounded now, as if his softness could erase what happened.
I didn't answer.
"I've been worried sick. You're not answering. You disappeared. You haven't been to school in days—"
"I'm not disappearing. I'm just…" I bit my lip. "Trying to think."
A silence.
Then, "You still haven't gone to the clinic?"
"No."
"Winda…"
"I don't want to hear it right now."
"We have to make a decision."
"I'm seventeen," I blurted.
"I know."
"I'm still in high school."
"I know, I know that, okay?" he said, a little too quickly. "But we can't ignore it forever. It won't just go away."
I leaned against my bedpost, heart pounding. "What do you want me to do, Reza? Go to my parents and say, 'Hey Mom, Dad, I slept with my private tutoring teacher and now I'm pregnant'? Do you think they'll pat me on the head and give me vitamins?!"
He was quiet for a while.
"No," he said at last. "I think they'll be devastated."
I laughed bitterly. "That makes two of us."
He exhaled on the other end. "I'm not running away from this. I'll take responsibility. I meant it when I said I love you, Winda."
"You love me…" I repeated slowly, trying to find comfort in the word. But it felt like a lie now. A story he told me in the dark, in whispered moans, under soft sheets and trembling kisses. "Then why do I feel so alone?"
"You're not alone."
"It feels like it."
More silence.
"Let's get married," he said.
That one sentence made my heart skip—then sink.
I sat up straight. "What?"
"Let's just… do it. I'll talk to my parents. We can figure out the rest later."
I could feel the panic crawling up my spine.
Marriage.
The word alone made me shiver.
Not because I didn't want to be with him—but because I wasn't ready to be anything yet. Not a wife. Not a mother. Not even an adult.
"I don't know how to cook, Reza," I whispered. "I still forget to fold my laundry sometimes. I cry when I get bad grades. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to be someone's… someone's—"
"I'll take care of you."
"But who's going to take care of me from you?"
That silenced him.
"I loved you," I said, voice cracking. "I thought you were the one who understood me, treated me like a person. Not like a test score, or a report card, or a trophy. I never imagined you'd be the one to ruin me."
"I'm not trying to ruin you."
"Then why do I feel ruined?"
He tried to speak, but I ended the call before he could.
I dropped the phone onto the floor and curled up on my bed, hugging my knees.
Downstairs, I heard my mom call, "Winda, there's news about Sari, that quiet girl from your class! Her parents are going around asking where she is. She's been gone for days."
Sari…
I clutched my stomach again.
Run.
She ran.
Where did she go?
How far can someone run before they stop feeling?
I'm scared.
I'm scared of being left behind.
I'm scared of being found.
I'm scared of becoming someone I no longer recognize.
—I used to dream of a future with you.
Now I just hope I still have one.