Five years ago, Rayyan Aqeef knelt before me with shaking hands. “I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes.” And he did—lovingly, patiently, painfully. He became my safe place.

Then came Ezra Zaydan.

“Assalamualaikum… saya datang untuk melamar anak tuan.” Wealthy, brilliant, everything my old self would’ve chosen without a doubt.

I asked for time. I left them both in silence—for a week.

This evening, I asked Rayyan to meet me. I held the ring he gave me five years ago. This is for the best… right?

But when I saw him— His eyes were swollen red, his skin pale, lips dry and trembling. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

He once said he rarely got sick. “When I do… it feels like dying.”

And now, he looked like he already knew who I was going to choose. Like that truth had already broken him.