Part 08

It had been a month since Gibran and Thania's marriage began. Yet, Gibran still couldn't accept Thania as his wife. He remained distant, cold, and barely spoke to her.

Now, they lived separately from Gibran's family, as Daniel had insisted they become independent and learn to complement each other. They resided in a house owned by Gibran. He had bought it long ago, dreaming of living there with his future wife. But all those dreams shattered when the woman he loved walked away without a second thought, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

Thania set the plates and glasses on the dining table. As always, she prepared breakfast for Gibran before he left for work. Though they lived alone now, she didn't want to disappoint him.

She sat on a chair, waiting for him to come downstairs. After a few minutes, she heard footsteps descending the staircase. Gibran appeared, but instead of heading toward the dining table, he walked straight to the front door.

"Gibran," she called out softly.

He halted but didn't turn to face her.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast first? Usually—"

"I have an important meeting. I'll eat outside." His tone was cold and clipped.

Without another word, he left. Thania exhaled softly, looking at the untouched food. She put everything away in the cupboard; at least it could be saved for dinner later.

Thania stood by the roadside, waiting for an ojek or any passing public transport. She was in a hurry, but for some reason, not a single vehicle passed by.

A sudden honk startled her. A sleek car stopped right in front of her. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face.

"Thania, what are you doing here?" the man inside asked.

"Mr. Andre. I was waiting for an ojek (Online motorcycle taxis), but none have come by," she replied.

"Come with me. I'll give you a ride."

"Oh, no need, sir. I don't want to trouble you."

"It's not a problem. We're heading to the same place anyway."

Thania hesitated. Andre often offered her rides before, and she always refused. But this time, she had no valid reason to reject him.

Finally, she nodded. "Alright, thank you."

She opened the car door and got in. Silence filled the air, making Thania uncomfortable. She had no intention of making small talk, so Andre took the initiative.

"Relax. No need to be so tense," he chuckled, noticing her stiff posture.

"Oh… right."

"And drop the 'sir.' Just call me Andre. We're not at the office, and I allow it outside of work."

"Alright… Andre."

After ten minutes, they arrived at the office building.

"Thanks for the ride," she said politely as she stepped out.

"Anytime."

8:00 PM

Thania finished her work and went to Andre's office to inform him she was leaving.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be heading home now, sir."

"Iya. Want to go home together?"

"No need, sir."

Andre chuckled. "You always refuse my offers. But that's alright. I won't give up."

Thania forced a small smile before excusing herself. She had her reasons. She didn't want Andre to know she lived under the same roof as Gibran. More than that, she didn't want him to find out she was married—to his friend.

When Thania arrived home, she saw Gibran's car parked in the driveway. He was already inside.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. She sighed before heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Once everything was set, she made her way to Gibran's room and knocked on the door.

"Gibran, I made dinner. Come eat."

Silence.

She knocked again. "Gibran?"

Finally, the door opened slightly. Gibran's face remained unreadable. "I already eat outside."

"Oh… I didn't know. Sorry for disturbing your rest."

Without another word, he closed the door.

Thania returned to the dining table, staring at the untouched dishes. She sat down and ate alone, even though she wasn't that hungry. She had cooked a lot, thinking Gibran would eat with her. But in the end, it was just her.

After dinner, she cleaned up, storing what she could. It was a waste, but she couldn't force herself to eat more than her stomach could handle.

Meanwhile, Gibran sat at the edge of his bed, holding a framed photograph of the woman he once loved. No—he still loved her. Even though she had left, his heart still longed for her.

His gaze darkened with sorrow. Disappointment, anger, and heartbreak clashed inside him. But love… love overshadowed his fury.

Though he was now married to the woman his father had chosen, his heart refused to forget the one who had almost become his wife. It felt unfair. He had given his all, yet this was the fate he was dealt.

Couldn't he be happy with the one he truly loved? Or was happiness simply not meant for him?

Lying down, he clutched the photo to his chest, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between them.

On the other side of the house, Thania sat by her bedroom window, gazing at the night sky. Stars scattered across the dark canvas, but her eyes searched for the brightest one—the moon.

She wasn't sharing a room with Gibran. She had chosen not to. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

With a sigh, she walked to her vanity, pulled open a drawer, and took out her diary. Flipping to a blank page, she began to write.

Hello, Diary.

We meet again. You're always my safe place, my escape. I hope you don't get tired of me. I have nowhere else to pour my thoughts.

Still, it's about my moon.

Can I be the star that accompanies the moon? I don't mind competing with thousands of other stars, as long as I can stay close.

I know the moon isn't as beautiful as it seems. It hides so many emotions. It's fragile, even though it looks strong. And sometimes, it needs someone to hold it up so it can shine.

I'm grateful for the sun, which always shares its light. It knows the moon cannot shine on its own, so it willingly lends its warmth. It even shares the sky, just so the moon won't feel alone.

I hope, one day, the moon finds its own miracle. Its own happiness.

Goodnight, my moon.