Chapter 13.1 Too Late
Silence enveloped the small pavilion. The evening breeze carried the scent of damp earth, bringing a sense of peace and tranquility. But in Dian's heart, there was only turmoil. Her emotions were in conflict. Should she continue this interview, or should she stop here?
If she kept listening, she feared her heart would grow heavier. But if she stopped now, she might lose something irreplaceable—a truth that might never come to light again.
"If time had separated them, then the truth about Nenek Halimah must not be lost as well."
Dian finally took a deep breath and decided to continue. She looked at Kakek Syarif's weary face, noticing the unwavering determination in his eyes.
"Kakek…" she whispered.
Kakek Syarif turned to her slowly, his gaze filled with understanding. It was as if he already knew what Dian was about to ask.
"Are you ready to continue this story? For Nenek Halimah?" Dian's voice was gentle, yet firm.
Kakek Syarif let out a long sigh. For a moment, he stared at the ground in front of him, as if gathering his strength. Then, he gave a slow nod.
"After I returned from Dubai, I immediately looked for Halimah… even though I didn't know what I would find. Had she already married? Was she still alive? Or…"
His voice faltered.
"Or perhaps… I would only find her grave."
His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but this time, he didn't cry. Maybe because he had already shed too many over the years.
"But when I arrived at her house… what I found was not a grave."
Dian held her breath.
"I found Halimah… still alive."
Pak Ismail and Ibu Annisa, who had been silently listening, exchanged glances. They never expected that Halimah had truly waited all this time.
Kakek Syarif gave a bittersweet smile, recalling the moment he reunited with the woman who had waited for him for decades.
"The moment she saw me, Halimah's voice trembled as she said, 'Is it true? Has the one I have been waiting for… finally come?'"
The atmospheree grew heavier. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath along with them.
Dian bit her lip, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling up inside her.
"After all these years… she still believed I would return."
Kakek Syarif's voice grew softer, as if each word he spoke was cutting through his own heart.
"I insisted on holding a wedding reception. I wanted to make up for all the lost time. I wanted her to feel the happiness she should have had decades ago."
"At first, Halimah refused. She said we were already too old for such things. But I persisted."
Kakek Syarif lowered his head, his trembling hands gripping the edge of his sarong tightly.
"But then… I made another mistake."
Dian held her breath.
"I postponed the marriage ceremony. I was too focused on preparing a grand reception, too eager to give her something big… that I forgot… our time was already running out."
A bitter realization filled the air.
A mistake repeated.
A regret that could never be undone.
Pak Ismail closed his eyes, as if trying to hold back the emotions swelling inside him.
Meanwhile, Ibu Annisa could only bite her lip, her tears silently falling again.
"If only I had married her first… maybe I wouldn't have had to witness that day."
Kakek Syarif smiled faintly. But it wasn't a smile of happiness.
It was the kind of smile that bore deep scars—wounds too painful to be healed.
This time, there were no more tears.
Perhaps because the sorrow had already sunk too deep to be expressed with mere weeping.
13.2 Departure
The solemn atmosphere of the wedding ceremony suddenly turned into panic. Halimah, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly lost strength and collapsed. Her body weakened, and she lost consciousness, forcing the ceremony to come to a halt.
Everyone rushed to her side, voices overlapping in panic. Without wasting time, they hurriedly took Halimah to the hospital.
Kakek Syarif never left her side. Day and night, he sat in the hospital corridor, his gaze never straying from the door of Halimah's treatment room.
He didn't care how long he had to wait. Fatigue, time—none of it mattered. Only one thing was in his mind: Halimah must be alright.
But fate had already spoken. That day became the last time Kakek Syarif saw Halimah's face.
She left forever.
She departed from this world with a peaceful smile on her face.
Now, Kakek Syarif stood before Halimah's grave. His aged fingers lightly touched the tombstone, tracing her name that was engraved upon it. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow over the cemetery.
Silence.
There were no words left to be spoken. Only sadness and deep regret filled the air.
Dian, who had accompanied him, finally broke the silence. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Kakek, where are you going with that bag?"
Kakek Syarif turned toward her. His frail hands clutched the straps of his bag as if it were something incredibly precious.
A small smile formed on his lips. "This bag… it holds my memories of Halimah."
Dian hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "May I know what's inside?"
Slowly, with great care, Kakek Syarif unzipped the bag. Inside, neatly stacked, were letters—dozens, perhaps even hundreds—still intact. Letters he had once written for Halimah.
And then… at the very bottom, there was a bundle of money—old, untouched.
The very money he had sent her years ago.
Dian gasped. Her heart clenched painfully as realization hit her. Halimah had never spent a single penny of it. She had kept it all, preserved with care, as if waiting for him to return and receive it back himself.
Kakek Syarif exhaled deeply, his eyes filled with sorrow.
Dian could no longer bear it.
She quickly packed her belongings and left.
She walked away with hurried steps, not daring to look back.
Tears streamed down her face, but she did not stop. She did not wipe them away. She simply let them fall.
Pak Ismail and Ibu Annisa silently watched Dian's retreating figure.
They understood.
This story was too heavy to bear, even for someone like Dian.
She needed time.
As the darkening sky loomed above, Dian's departure left behind an unsettling silence.
It was as if the end of this tale had sealed the fate of a love that waited too long—of devotion, longing, and a regret that would never fade.
13.3 Memories and the Story That Remains
Dian walked away from the interview with Kakek Syarif without looking back. Her steps were quick, as if she wanted to escape from the overwhelming emotions that tore at her heart. The story of Nenek Halimah's sacrifice and Kakek Syarif's lifelong regret echoed relentlessly in her mind, wrapping her heart in an unbearable sadness.
On the way home, her thoughts were in turmoil. Yet, despite the storm raging inside her, she managed to keep her composure, ensuring nothing reckless happened.
As soon as she arrived home, Dian went straight to the bedroom without a word. She didn't even respond to Heri's questions—something she had never done before.
Heri, sensing the shift in his wife's demeanor, chose to remain patient. He sighed softly and walked toward the kitchen. Without hesitation, he prepared a cup of warm tea.
Moments later, he entered the bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes, full of warmth, settled on Dian.
"Sayang, do you want to talk about it?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
Dian exhaled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. She hesitated before finally nodding. With slightly trembling hands, she accepted the cup of tea Heri handed her, taking a slow sip.
Then, she began to speak.
Dian told him everything—about Nenek Halimah's unwavering devotion, about Kakek Syarif's regrets that shadowed him until his final days, about a love that endured despite the cruelty of time. Her voice trembled as she recounted the most heartbreaking moments, and as she reached the peak of the story, silent tears rolled down her cheeks, unstoppable.
Heri listened intently. He didn't interrupt, didn't try to offer empty words of comfort. Instead, he absorbed every word, letting the weight of the story sink deep into his heart. His fists clenched at his sides as if trying to contain the storm brewing within him.
When Dian finished speaking, silence filled the room.
Heri bowed his head.
There were no words, just a thick, suffocating air between them.
Then, in a hoarse voice, he finally spoke.
"I feel guilty, Yang." His words were barely audible. "Back in college… I laughed at Nenek Halimah's story with my friends. I was cruel… I was blind…"
Dian turned toward him, her eyes still glistening with tears.
"I know you regret it." Her voice was soft, yet firm. "But we can make things right."
Heri lifted his gaze, his eyes bloodshot with emotion. Desperation flickered within them, but so did hope.
"What are you going to do now, Sayang?"
Dian inhaled sharply, then answered with unwavering resolve.
"I'm going to make this story go viral."
Heri blinked in surprise.
"People need to hear this." Her voice carried a quiet strength. "They need to know about this love, this sacrifice. This isn't just a story. It's a lesson that must be learned."
Heri studied her for a long moment before nodding, his expression filled with newfound determination.
"I support you completely, Yang. This is the right thing to do. I want to help, and I want to make amends for what I once did. Nenek Halimah's name deserves to be restored."
Dian gazed at her husband, her heart swelling with emotion. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.
And in that embrace, her tears finally broke free.
Heri held her just as tightly, his hand gently rubbing her back, offering silent reassurance.
They clung to each other, finding strength in the warmth they shared, knowing they were about to embark on something far greater than themselves.
But beyond their shared resolve, unanswered questions lingered in the air.
Would this story touch the hearts of those who heard it?
Would Nenek Halimah's sacrifice and Kakek Syarif's sorrow change people's perspectives?
Could a tarnished name ever be redeemed?
Only time and their efforts would tell.