PROLOGUE
“It’s up to you, but you must know this—I will always be with you, forever. We are fated to live and die together, until the last breath leaves us.”
Who, then, should be blamed for all this sorrow?
Who has ever cared about the storm that rages within?
Who has truly tried to understand the story behind it all?
Who?
Even until the end of time, I know I will never find the answer.
Grief lingers, unrest remains, and silence continues to cradle me.
Syed Ikram.
Whispering your name in this solitude brings me a sliver of peace.
I wonder how you are now.
Are you happy with the days that unfold before you?
Do you still think of me, far away from your world?
Do memories of our beautiful moments ever find you again?
Perhaps not.
Perhaps, at this very moment, you are lost in the warmth of another’s arms.
At three in the morning, what else could newlyweds be doing but indulging in tender affection—expressing the love that has finally been made lawful? Is that not what newlyweds do?
Caresses exchanged, secrets whispered, laughter shared.
It was all too clear today—
You were seated upon the bridal dais in a regal yellow songket,
and the crowd cheered as you and Ramlah were paraded through the village to the beat of kompang.
And I…
I watched from afar,
swallowing the lump in my throat,
fighting the ache that refused to fade.
As you smiled upon the dais, I quietly walked away.
I could no longer bear to see you.
The longer I stayed, the weaker my resolve became.
I didn’t want our friends to suspect anything.
So, I played along—pretending to be cheerful, to share in your joy,
to celebrate your crowning as “the groom of the day.”
Even if my act meant nothing to either of us anymore, I kept telling myself: Be strong. Endure this.
But seeing you smile endlessly—
Oh, how it tore at me.
Your laughter killed me slowly,
like a blade twisted deep within my chest.
Syed Ikram, why wasn’t it me beside you?
“Still awake, Brian?”
Jefri’s voice jolted me from my thoughts.
I forced a smile at my housemate.
Jefri Ahmad—he had only recently moved in, renting the upper floor.
A final-year mechanical engineering student at a university in Kuala Lumpur.
“It’s hot,” I replied, glancing at him. He was shirtless, wearing only knee-length shorts. His well-built frame was defined and sculpted—
I took a deep breath, a strange feeling stirring within me.
“Of course it’s hot… why are you wearing that sweater?” he teased, settling into a chair.
The night breeze was gentle, soothing—
but not for me. My mind was a tempest.
“No class tomorrow morning, Jef?” I asked, changing the subject.
He nodded.
“Couldn’t sleep. My eyes just won’t shut,” he said easily.
Jefri was always friendly, always lingering to talk.
He had a way of asking about my day, about my health—
almost like he cared too much for someone who was merely a tenant.
He’d help tidy the house, mow the lawn, water the plants, take out the trash.
He was… kind. Perhaps too kind.
“What’s keeping you up?” I asked.
“Nothing…” he said, his face slightly flushed.
“Come on, must’ve had a fight with your girlfriend?” I teased.
I knew about Suria—his sweetheart from the same university, different faculty.
Jefri shrugged, lips pouting.
“Women love attention,” I advised. “No matter how busy you are, check in. Ask how she’s doing. They love that.”
“I know. But it’s exhausting having to report every hour. Feels like there’s no trust. I hate that. She should know there’s no one else,” he said, finally revealing the truth.
“See? I knew it—you’re hurt and guilty at the same time,” I teased.
He sighed, “And now I have to be the one to make it right. She causes the drama, but I have to apologize. Men always have to give in.”
I chuckled. “Want to know the golden rule of relationships? Women are always right. Learn that, and you’ll last long.”
Jefri laughed. “Guess you’re right. They always need to be right.”
We shared a laugh, swapping stories about love and its absurdities.
Then Jefri turned to me, mischief in his eyes. “What about people like you, Brian?”
“People like me?” I arched a brow.
“Yeah—do you also always need to be right?”
“Of course,” I said proudly. “We like to be perfect and stylish.”
He burst out laughing. “Oh man, that’s even more dangerous!”
“Dangerous or not, you’ve got to try first,” I quipped, pinching his cheek playfully.
He blushed, embarrassed by his own boldness.
“So between women and people like Brian,” he said, “who’s more sensitive—especially about feelings?”
“It depends on the person. Some don’t show it, but they care deeply. Some do both. You just have to understand your partner.”
“But is it true what people say—that people like Brian are even more sensitive, more particular… even fussier than women?”
“Why the sudden interest?” I shot back.
“Just curious. No harm in knowing, right?” he smiled—and oh, what a smile it was.
So calm, so disarming.
“We are more sensitive, yes. And meticulous. But it depends on the situation, darling,” I teased, pinching his cheek again.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Just don’t be too fussy, or you’ll scare people away!”
“Alright, enough talking. It’s almost three. Go get some sleep. I’ll make warm milk—you’ll drift off faster,” I said, heading to the kitchen.
Truthfully, I wanted him to leave.
Jefri’s presence only reminded me of Syed Ikram—too much.
The kindness, the warmth… they were too alike.
And I feared what my heart might do if I kept looking at him.
“Brian, you should rest too. Don’t overthink, or you might end up somewhere you shouldn’t,” he said softly before retreating to his room.
I leaned back in the balcony chair, sighing.
My mind was heavy, my eyes wide open.
And then, like a tide, the memories returned.
“This marriage doesn’t mean the end of us. I’ll always love you, Brian. Always.”
“Stop pretending, Ikram. I’m tired of your promises. Men always promise the moon before they get what they want…” I had teased him once.
He’d pulled me into his arms. That was his way of apologizing.
And I loved it. I loved him.
His strong arms, his warmth.
I would fake anger just to be held that way again.
“You know why I have to marry,” he had said softly. “I need to prove myself to my family. They want an heir. I’m the eldest, Brian. I have responsibilities.”
“What about us?” I had asked, voice trembling.
“Trust me, Brian. I’m not like other men. I mean it.”
He tightened his embrace. His breath grazed my neck, and I shivered.
“Maybe this is my fate—to always suffer alone,” I murmured bitterly.
“Don’t say that. I’d never hurt you. I love you,” he whispered.
“Stop, Ikram. Your promises scare me.”
“You still doubt me?”
I shrugged, unsure.
“Want me to swear it?”
“Please don’t. Don’t tempt fate,” I said softly.
“It’s up to you, Brian. But know this—I’ll always be with you. We are bound for life and death, until our last breath.”
And that night—
That final night before he became a husband—
He held me for the last time.
That night, Syed Ikram was still mine.
After that, he belonged to another—
To Ramlah, my own sister.
