I WAS YOUNG ONCE

Meanwhile, within the confines of his spacious and meticulously arranged office, Haryo Wibowo grew increasingly restless.

Several days had passed, yet there had been no word from his niece, Diana, no visit, not even a telephone call. This was unlike her.

The girl had always been diligent in keeping him informed, particularly when it came to matters of significance.

He had given her clear and unwavering instructions, she was to bring her beau, Havi, to meet him without delay.

There was a pressing matter that demanded discussion, the ongoing negotiations concerning the supply of raw rubber materials.

The future of Nujaya Ltd's operations hinged upon this supply, and the clock was swiftly ticking away.

"Where on earth is that girl?" he muttered, a note of irritation lacing his voice.

Haryo cast a glance at the clock on the wall. Two days had passed without so much as a word.

If the raw materials did not arrive soon, the factory's operations could grind to a halt, and the consequences would be far-reaching.

"At this rate, the entire production could descend into chaos," he sighed, releasing a heavy breath.

His anxiety swelled with each passing moment.

Haryo understood all too well that business did not wait for anyone.

Every delay carried the risk of substantial losses, especially with the sizeable contract currently hanging in the balance.

"Ah… that troublesome girl!" he grumbled at last, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Gripped by an unyielding sense of unease, Haryo finally decided to call his wife, Cici Mulyani, using the office telephone.

He hoped she might know where Diana was.

The call connected after a few moments of tense silence.

"Hello… who is this?" came a soft, familiar voice from the other end. It was Cici, his wife.

"It's me, Haryo," he answered briskly. "Is Diana at home?" He wasted no time on pleasantries.

"Oh, it's you, darling," Cici replied, her tone gentle. "Diana hasn't been here. She hasn't visited in two days."

Haryo frowned, "Not at home? Then where is she?" he pressed, his curiosity growing sharper.

There was a pause as Cici seemed to search her memory, "Oh, that's right," she said suddenly.

"Two days ago, Diana mentioned she was waiting for a friend at the hospital. Apparently, the friend had been in an accident."

"An accident?" Haryo echoed, his voice tightening. "Was this friend a man or a woman?"

"A man," Cici answered, exhaling softly. "His name is Havi. Diana said..."

"What's his name?!" Haryo cut in sharply, his voice rising an octave.

Startled by his reaction, Cici hesitated before repeating herself, "Havi. His name is Havi. I'm certain I heard her correctly."

"Good God…" Haryo breathed, his eyes widening as a sudden realisation dawned on him.

"I'm going to see Havi," he declared with firm resolve, slamming the receiver down before Cici could respond.

"Hello… darling… Hello!" Cici called out, but the line had already gone dead.

She sighed deeply, irritation prickling at the edges of her composure.

Haryo's abruptness was nothing new, but this time, it left her particularly unsettled.

"Neither uncle nor niece, both of them are behaving oddly!" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head in bewilderment as she tried to make sense of it all.

Upon hearing the news, Haryo immediately called for his personal driver.

"Baskoro!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding.

In the garage, Baskoro, who had been quietly enjoying his midday coffee, started in surprise. He hastily set his cup down and rushed to answer.

"Yes, Mr Haryo?" he responded, his tone respectful.

"Prepare the car. Take me to Loban Village," Haryo ordered curtly, wasting no time on explanations.

Baskoro frowned in confusion, "Loban Village? But isn't our factory already located here, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"Don't ask questions. Find a young man named Havi in that village. I need to meet him," Haryo snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

Though bewildered by the sudden command, Baskoro simply nodded in obedience.

Without another word, he made his way to the garage to ready the car, while Haryo stood impatiently at the doorway, his expression tense and unyielding.

"Hurry up!" Haryo barked as soon as he slid into the back seat.

Without delay, Baskoro pressed his foot to the accelerator, and the sleek black sedan surged forward, cutting swiftly through the winding roads towards Loban Village.

Seated in the back, Haryo leaned against the leather upholstery, his restlessness palpable.

His mind swirled with countless possibilities, "What had happened to him?"

His face remained taut with concentration, while his fingers drummed an irregular rhythm against the armrest.

A rare sign of agitation for a man usually so composed.

From the driver's seat, Baskoro glanced at his employer through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight of the unspoken tension.

Yet, years of service had taught him that when Haryo Wibowo adopted this tone, it was wiser to remain silent.

The engine roared as the car sped along, carrying them ever closer to their mysterious destination, one whose importance was clear to Haryo, though its meaning remained an enigma to his faithful driver.

*****

Meanwhile, inside Havi's modest home, Grandfather Har continued delivering a stern lecture to his old friend's grandson.

His firm voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the ageing wooden walls that creaked softly with time.

"Havi, you may have saved your parents," Grandfather Har said gravely, "but your actions were reckless! You could have been injured, or worse. Have you ever stopped to consider the worst that could happen?"

Havi sat quietly on the wooden chair near the dining table, his head bowed in silence.

He knew the old man was right, but the weight of his responsibility towards his parents far outweighed any fear for his own safety.

He had lost track of how long the lecture had gone on, long enough for his ears to start ringing under the relentless tide of advice and warnings.

And yet, beneath the old man's scolding, Havi knew one thing for certain, Grandfather Har was only worried about him.

With a soft sigh, Havi glanced down at his hands.

Though exhaustion weighed heavily on his limbs, he felt no regret for what he had done.

To him, protecting his family was worth any risk.

"Do you understand me, Havi?" Grandfather Har asked again, his tone still firm but softened by a trace of concern.

"Yes, Grandfather Har. I understand. I'm sorry," Havi murmured, his voice quiet yet sincere.

Grandfather Har let out a long breath, as though releasing the burden of his worry.

"Good," he said, shifting his gaze to Diana, who sat beside Havi.

She appeared calm, though a hint of awkwardness lingered in her posture.

"And you... young lady," he continued with a warm smile, "thank you for helping Havi." His words were laced with genuine gratitude.

Diana, who had half-expected to receive a scolding herself, blinked in surprise at his gentler tone.

She quickly composed herself and gave a polite nod.

"You're welcome, Grandfather," she replied softly, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips.

Grandfather Har seemed satisfied by their responses.

Yet, instead of leaving the matter there, his smile took on a playful edge.

"So... the two of you," he mused, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "are you planning to get married someday?"

His casual question hung in the air like a spark, igniting a wave of embarrassment that swept over them both.

Havi and Diana froze, their faces turning a shade of crimson in unison.

The room, which had moments ago been filled with sternness, now buzzed with an entirely different kind of tension.

"Grandfather..." Havi muttered under his breath, his voice laced with exasperation.

But the old man merely chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

"I know how young people think, Havi. I was your age once too," he said, shooting them both a knowing glance.

Diana remained silent, though the warmth spreading across her cheeks betrayed her flustered thoughts.

Her heart pounded, whether from the earlier lecture or the teasing words, she wasn't sure.

Havi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the wave of embarrassment curling around him.

"Honestly…" he mumbled under his breath, barely suppressing his discomfort.

Grandfather Har merely laughed again, his amusement echoing through the small room.

A reminder that, no matter how much time passed, some things never changed.