Chapter 23: The Longing of Two Families
23.1: Rizky's Family's Longing
A Quiet Night at the Dormitory
That night, the dormitory was unusually quiet. All the residents had retreated to their rooms, resting after a long day. But in Rizky's room, an unease stirred within him—an emotion he had tried to suppress for so long was now creeping in, tightening around his chest.
He took a deep breath and reached for his phone, which lay on the table. His fingers hesitated before pressing his mother's number. It had been a long time since he last contacted his parents. Even during his time in Malaysia, he had avoided reaching out to them.
The first ring echoed. Then the second. Doubts began to creep into his mind.
Was his mother already asleep?
Or… was she reluctant to answer his call, disappointed in him?
But on the third ring, the voice he had missed so much finally greeted him.
"Hello? Assalamu'alaikum, nak?"
Her voice was warm, gentle—unchanged.
"Wa'alaikumsalam, Mak," Rizky replied, his voice trembling slightly.
For a moment, he didn't know what to say. There was so much he wanted to express, but his tongue felt heavy.
His mother, who knew her son well, instantly sensed that something was wrong.
"What's wrong, nak? Is something bothering you?" she asked gently.
Hearing that caring tone, Rizky's defenses crumbled. Tears welled up in his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his emotions, but it was useless.
"I'm sorry, Mak…" His voice came out in a whisper, barely audible.
Silence.
No response from the other end.
Rizky grew anxious. Was his mother upset? Disappointed?
"Mak?" he called hesitantly.
Then, a soft sob broke the silence.
"It's me who should be apologizing, nak… not you," his mother's voice trembled. "It's your father and I who were at fault for everything."
Rizky shook his head, even though she couldn't see him.
"No, Mak. You and Bapak did nothing wrong. I never blamed anyone. But… I'm just sad. I left without a word, made you worry…"
His mother took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions.
"I knew, nak. From the moment you told Heri you were going to Jakarta, I had a feeling. But when I asked our relatives there, no one knew where you were. In the end, I called Cindy, and that's how I found out you were in Malaysia."
Rizky froze.
So… she had known all along.
"You're in Brunei now, aren't you?" his mother continued, her voice calmer now.
Rizky chuckled softly.
"Yeah, Mak. Did Cindy tell you?"
His mother let out a small laugh amid her sniffles.
"Alhamdulillah, I'm so grateful to have a niece like her. Cindy always kept me updated about you. That was enough for me. But now, I'm even happier because you called me yourself."
Tears finally fell down Rizky's cheeks. A mix of relief and deep regret filled his heart.
"From now on, I promise I won't make you worry again, Mak."
His mother smiled through her tears.
"That makes me so happy, nak. Remember, every mistake is a lesson. If you take it the right way, even mistakes can turn into blessings."
Rizky nodded, absorbing every word she said.
"By the way, how's everything over there, nak?" his mother asked, shifting the mood.
"Still the same, Mak. But now, Kak Mutia has grown up. She was the one who picked me up when I first arrived."
Silence.
No response.
Rizky frowned.
"Mak? Are you there?"
His mother's voice returned, but something about it felt off.
"Yes, nak… I'm here."
"Were you spacing out, Mak?" Rizky asked suspiciously.
His mother chuckled softly, but there was something in her tone—like she was trying to cover something up.
"Oh, no. Your father just asked for something."
Rizky knew she was trying to change the subject, but he chose not to press further.
"Alright, Mak. I'll get some rest now. Send my regards to Bapak."
"I will, nak. Assalamu'alaikum."
"Wa'alaikumsalam, Mak."
The call ended, leaving a quiet stillness in Rizky's room.
He stared at his phone for a long time, feeling something indescribable. Relief. Happiness. But also… an even deeper longing.
No matter where he went, family would always be irreplaceable.
But was this the start of something new?
Or was there still something left unspoken?
Only time would tell.
23.2: Nabila's Family's Longing
At Nabila's Home
The dining room in Nabila's house was quiet. Pak Anwar sat in his favorite chair, sipping a warm cup of coffee while occasionally glancing at his wife, Bu Nur, who was clearing the table.
"Ibu, how is Nabila doing?" he asked softly.
Bu Nur paused for a moment, then turned to him with a blank expression.
"Why are you suddenly asking about Nabila?" she replied, her tone slightly sharp.
Pak Anwar frowned, confused by her reaction.
"What's wrong with me asking? Isn't it normal for me to miss our daughter?" he said cautiously.
Bu Nur placed a plate down on the table with more force than necessary.
"Miss her?" she said, her eyes locking onto her husband's. "You say you love her, yet you pushed her into an arranged marriage without thinking it through. That's not love—that's forcing your will upon her!"
Pak Anwar sighed deeply and gently set his cup down. He knew his wife was still holding onto resentment over the decision.
"You still can't accept this arrangement?" he asked, his voice softer this time.
Bu Nur crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze unwavering.
"Do you think it's easy for a mother to watch her daughter be forced into marriage with someone she never chose?"
Pak Anwar gave a small smile and lowered his head slightly, as if searching for the right words.
"Ibu, may I tell you a story?"
Bu Nur remained silent but didn't stop him from speaking.
Pak Anwar took a deep breath before beginning.
"There was once a little child walking towards the edge of a cliff. The father saw him and immediately stopped him. But the mother said, 'Why are you stopping him? That's restricting his freedom. If you do that, it means you don't love him.'
"Afraid of being seen as unloving, the father let go. And what happened? The child fell into the cliff."
"After it happened, the mother turned around and blamed the father. 'Why did you let him go?' she asked."
Pak Anwar looked his wife in the eye.
"Ibu, is that what we want? Should we let Nabila make the wrong choice just because we're afraid of being seen as controlling?"
Bu Nur remained silent, but doubt flickered in her eyes.
Seeing this, Pak Anwar continued, his voice calm yet firm.
"We arranged this marriage not because we don't love her. It's because we love her that we want someone who can guide her, not someone who will lead her astray."
Bu Nur lowered her gaze, her mind swirling with her husband's words.
"We know who Pak Ismail's family is. We know they are good people, responsible, and share the same values as us. We don't want our daughter to gamble with her own future."
"Choosing a spouse isn't just about feelings, Ibu. It's about responsibility, the future of a family, and a lifetime of commitment."
Pak Anwar paused, letting his words sink in.
"You're right—not all arranged marriages end in happiness," he admitted. "But does choosing a partner freely guarantee happiness? Nothing in this world is guaranteed, Ibu. Nothing is certain."
Bu Nur remained silent for a long time. She couldn't argue with his logic, but her heart still struggled to accept it.
Finally, in a quiet voice, she said,
"Maybe… I just need time to think about all this, Pak."
Pak Anwar smiled gently and nodded.
"I won't force you, Ibu. What matters is that we both remember—we're doing this for our daughter's happiness."
Bu Nur looked at her husband, her expression softer now. She knew he wasn't acting out of cruelty. He simply wanted what was best for their child, just as she did.
For the first time, her heart began to open up to the reasons behind this decision.
But would Nabila see it the same way?
What would happen when Nabila learned about this conversation?
Would she understand her parents' intentions, or would she resist the arrangement even more?
We'll find out in the next chapter.