The rain had just stopped, leaving the asphalt slick and the air cold enough to cut through bone. The porch light of Arsy Raihana Shahira's house glowed dim, casting a weak circle of light over the front yard — a yard that, on this particular night, had become the stage for the unraveling of someone's entire life.

Arsy stood there gasping for breath, her eyes burning red, her hands trembling as she fought to contain something that felt seconds from detonating inside her chest. Two people stood before her. The two people she had trusted most in this world.

Radit Pradana, her fiance. The man who was supposed to stand beside her before the officiant in a matter of days and speak the sacred vows. And Nadira Anindya, the best friend Arsy had loved like a sister. But tonight, the two of them stood side by side — not as allies helping Arsy prepare for the happiest day of her life, but as traitors whose single act of betrayal had demolished every ounce of trust she had ever placed in them.

Nadira stood too close to Radit, their shoulders nearly touching. Radit let out a heavy breath, glanced at Nadira — who kept her head bowed in shame — then turned back to Arsy with an expression so flat it bordered on boredom. Not a trace of guilt.

Arsy's vision blurred behind the tears she was fighting to hold back.

"Explain." Her voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make Radit lift his chin. "Explain right now what's been going on between you two." Firmer this time, even though her throat felt like it was on fire.

Radit exhaled long and slow, like a man tired of dealing with something trivial. Not like a man who'd just been caught cheating.

"You saw it yourself, didn't you? I've been seeing Nadira. That means Nadira and I are together." His tone was flat. Matter-of-fact.

The words cut deeper than any denial could have. Arsy let out a small laugh — bitter enough to sting anyone who heard it.

"So I wasn't imagining things. You two have been going behind my back."

Nadira's head dropped lower. Her hands wrung together, knuckles white. Her shoulders shook — she couldn't believe Arsy had actually caught them.

"Arsy… I-I can explain everything," Nadira's voice trembled. "I swear, it's not what you think."

"SHUT UP."

Arsy's head snapped toward her. Eyes sharp as broken glass. Tears pooled at the corners but she refused — absolutely refused — to let them fall.

"Don't you ever say my name with that filthy mouth of yours again." Low. Dangerous. "You don't have that right."

Nadira crumbled into sobs, but Radit stepped forward, placing himself in front of her like a shield — as if he were ready to do whatever it took to protect Nadira from Arsy's fury.

"Don't yell at her," he said, ice in his voice. "This isn't Nadira's fault. It's mine. I'm the one who asked her to be with me."

"Oh." Arsy nodded slowly. "So now you're openly admitting your relationship with Nadira. Right to my face."

Radit paused for a beat, then gave a small nod.

"Yeah."

That single word was enough to bring Arsy's world crashing down.

"You—" She swallowed hard. "The two of you are absolutely unbelievable. How could you do this to me? What did I ever do to either of you?!"

Radit didn't answer right away. Instead, his eyes swept the surroundings — the neighboring houses, the people pretending to be busy with their own business while clearly hanging on every word. Arsy's face burned.

"I was going to be your wife, Radit. I'm the one who was there for you from the very beginning — through nothing — until you made it and got accepted as a doctor. I was the one you always came running to whenever you needed something. I was the one who—"

"Enough." Radit's tone sliced through her words and silenced her. "I never asked you to do any of that. You chose to."

The sentence landed like a slap across her face.

"So now it's my fault?" Arsy's voice dropped to almost nothing. Radit shrugged.

"I'm just being honest."

Arsy shook her head, a small, broken laugh escaping as she wiped her face.

"Honest?" she repeated. "Which kind of honest, Radit? Honest because you're admitting you cheated? Or honest because you're too ashamed to acknowledge everything I did to get you where you are right now?"

Radit looked her dead in the eye. Without a shred of hesitation, he acknowledged his affair with Nadira in front of everyone watching.

"The second one."

Silence crashed down around them. Arsy felt her knees threaten to buckle. But she chose to stay standing. She refused to collapse in front of Radit and Nadira.

"Why?" she asked at last. "Why would you do this to me?"

Radit let out a breath, clearly impatient to finally unload what had apparently been building inside him for some time.

"Because I don't love you, Arsy."

The words fell from his mouth without empathy, without remorse — a blade driven deeper into a wound that was already bleeding out. Arsy stared at him, hollow-eyed. She couldn't process it. The man she'd believed loved her had never loved her at all.

"What?"

"I never loved you, Arsy." He didn't even flinch repeating it. "I agreed to marry you because my parents wanted me to. They liked you and your family. I was just going along with what they asked."

Her tears finally broke free.

"Then what was I to you, Radit?" Her voice cracked wide open. "A doll? A decoration?"

"Sure. Think of it that way," Radit answered lightly — so lightly that even Nadira flinched.

"Radit—"

"Nadira, please — don't stop me from telling this woman the truth. I'm tired of pretending. You want to know something, Arsy? Since I've been with Nadira, I actually feel alive."

What was left of Arsy's heart disintegrated. She turned to Nadira. The look in her eyes was pure devastation.

"Do you have any idea, Nadira — I told you everything. Every problem I had with Radit. Every fear. Even my wedding plans. You know how much I loved you. I treated you like my own sister. And this is how you repay me? You took everything I gave you — every bit of love and trust — and you used it to sleep with my fiance."

Nadira wept openly now.

"I fell in love, Arsy… I never meant to take Radit from you. I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't."

The neighbors' whispers grew louder. Arsy's name passed between them like currency. Radit dragged a hand down his face, then raised his voice deliberately — making sure everyone could hear.

"That's enough. There's nothing left worth holding on to."

Arsy's heart slammed against her ribs.

"What do you mean by that, Radit?"

He met her eyes without wavering.

"We should call off the wedding."

The words hung in the night air like a verdict. Several neighbors audibly gasped. Arsy felt her legs go numb as Radit unilaterally destroyed their future with a single sentence.

"You… what are you saying, Radit?" she stammered.

"I said let's cancel the wedding." Not a flicker of doubt. "I'm not going to marry a woman I don't love."

Those words were still suspended in the cold night air when the front door of Arsy's house creaked open behind her. The sound was quiet — but enough to make Arsy turn.

A middle-aged man stood in the doorway, his body slightly stooped. His hair had gone silver at the temples, his face was drawn and pale, and his steps no longer carried the steadiness they once had. But his eyes — eyes that had always looked at Arsy with nothing but love — were now filled with confusion.

Rahman Shahira. Arsy's father.

He'd been hearing the argument from inside. At first, he'd assumed it was a minor misunderstanding. But Radit's last declaration — that he wanted to cancel the wedding — had carried through the walls with a clarity that was impossible to ignore.

"What's going on out here?" His voice was weak but firm.

Every pair of eyes in the yard — including the neighbors who'd been pretending not to listen — turned to him. Arsy froze.

"Dad…" The word barely made it past her lips.

Rahman descended the porch steps. His gaze moved from Arsy to Radit, then to Nadira standing half-hidden behind Radit's shoulder. Nadira's face was white with panic. Radit's expression hadn't changed — the same indifferent mask as before.

Rahman stopped directly in front of Radit.

"What did you just say, Radit?" Quiet, but loaded with pressure. "Did I hear you say you want to cancel the wedding?"

Radit didn't answer right away. He glanced toward Arsy, then back at Rahman.

"Yes, sir," he said finally. "I want to cancel my wedding to Arsy."

Rahman's throat seized. Hearing the words spoken directly to his face was something else entirely.

"Radit, do you realize what you're saying?" His voice rose. "Marriage isn't a game. The wedding is days away. The invitations have been sent. The entire extended family knows."

Radit let out a breath — the kind a man releases when someone is lecturing him about something he's already stopped caring about.

"I know exactly what I'm saying, sir."

Rahman shook his head slowly, struggling to absorb what he was hearing.

"Why?"

Arsy watched her father through flooded eyes. Everything inside her screamed to stop this — to shield this man who should have been shielded by her, not destroyed because of her. But Radit opened his mouth again.

"I don't want this marriage anymore, sir."

Rahman went silent for several seconds.

"You… you can't be serious." His voice dropped to almost nothing. "Radit, please tell me this isn't real."

Radit shook his head.

"I'm not joking, sir."

"You are my daughter's fiance." Rahman's voice had begun to crack. "My child. You came to this house. You proposed properly. You promised to take care of her and marry her."

Radit's eyes flicked briefly to Nadira, then back to Rahman.

"Forgive me, sir. I never loved Arsy."

Arsy's hand flew to her mouth. A soundless sob tore through her. Rahman turned to stone.

"What…?" Barely a whisper.

"I accepted this marriage because my parents asked me to," Radit continued without hesitation. "Not because I loved Arsy."

The color drained further from Rahman's face.

"Then what now?" he managed.

"I'm in love with someone else." Radit didn't blink. "And that someone is Nadira."

The name struck Rahman's chest like a sledgehammer. He took an involuntary step backward. His chest constricted. His breathing turned shallow and rapid. He looked at Nadira — the young woman who had visited his home countless times, whom he had always welcomed warmly, believing she was his daughter's closest friend.

"You?" he murmured, unable to process it.

Nadira's head dropped. She broke down the moment her eyes met Rahman's.

"I'm sorry, Uncle…"

Rahman swallowed. His throat was dry as paper. The world tilted around him. He turned to Arsy. His daughter stood there shaking, her face drenched in tears, her shoulders heaving as she fought to contain her sobs. Her eyes were vacant — the eyes of someone who had held on to pain for so long that she had finally run out of strength.

And all of it was being witnessed by their neighbors. Rahman felt his chest being crushed from the inside.

"Arsy…" he called out, barely above a breath.

She turned. Their eyes met. In his daughter's gaze, Rahman saw something he had never seen before.

Destruction.

And in that instant, pain erupted through his chest without warning.

"Ah—"

His hand shot to the left side of his chest. His breath hitched. His vision went dark at the edges.

"Dad?" Arsy's voice pitched with alarm.

Rahman tried to stand straight, but his knees betrayed him. The pain intensified, radiating down his arm and into his jaw.

"Dad, what's wrong?" She was nearly shouting now.

Rahman staggered.

"Mr. Rahman!" one of the neighbors cried, rushing toward him.

But Rahman had already collapsed to the ground.

"DAD!"

Arsy sprinted to his side. She dropped to her knees and gathered his motionless body into her arms.

"Dad, wake up — please wake up…" Her composure shattered completely. "Don't do this to me, Dad — please…"

Her hands shook as she gripped his shoulders. The yard erupted around them. Neighbors shouted in panic. Someone yelled to call an ambulance. Another ran inside to grab eucalyptus oil. Radit stood rooted to the spot, watching.

The chaos hadn't fully settled when Rahman lay unconscious on the rain-soaked ground. Arsy remained on her knees beside him, both hands clutching the man who had been her entire world since childhood.

"Dad… can you hear me?" Her voice was raw, wrecked. Her chest heaved unevenly. "Please don't do this… please…"

But Rahman didn't respond. His eyes stayed shut. His face had gone gray, his lips edging toward blue. Panic spread through Arsy like a slow-burning fire — quiet at first, then consuming. Her fingers fumbled for a pulse at his wrist. All she found was cold, steadily deepening cold.

"Where the hell is the ambulance?" someone screamed from the crowd.

"They've been called! They said they're on their way!"

Arsy had stopped hearing any of it. The world had narrowed to just two people — herself and her father lying broken on the wet earth. Then, in the middle of the chaos, one thought cut through everything else.

Radit.

Chest heaving, Arsy lifted her head. Her tear-blurred eyes found him immediately — still standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, expression blank, as if none of this was his concern. And beside him stood Nadira. The friend who had once shared every joy and heartbreak with her.

Something inside Arsy's chest cracked open.

She rose to her feet in one rough motion, leaving her father in the care of the neighbors who had gathered around him. Her steps were unsteady, but rage held her upright.

"Are you happy now?" Arsy's voice shook, but it carried enough force to make Radit turn. "Is this what you wanted — watching my father collapse like that?!"

Radit's glance was fleeting. Empty. No regret. No guilt.

"Arsy, don't start again," he said flatly.

"Don't start?" A broken laugh tore from her throat. "My father just passed out right in front of you, Radit! Because of you! Because of what you said!"

Radit sighed — the sigh of a man enduring a scene he found tedious.

"That's not my fault. I was just being honest with your father."

Arsy's fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms.

"Honest?" Her voice climbed. "You think your honesty comes without consequences? My father has a heart condition, Radit! You know that! You've been coming to this house for years — you know exactly what his health is like!"

Radit shrugged.

"That's your family's problem. I never asked your father to get involved."

The words hit harder than anything that had come before. Several neighbors who overheard went dead silent. Some shook their heads in disbelief. Others whispered through clenched teeth.

"Are you even human?!" Arsy screamed.

Radit fixed her with a cold stare. "Arsy, please. Quit acting like you're the biggest victim here. We're done. Don't drag me into something that's not my responsibility."

Arsy stepped closer. Her eyes were red, her face streaked with tears that wouldn't stop.

"If anything happens to my father," she said, low and loaded with menace, "I will never forgive either of you. Not for as long as I live."

Radit held her gaze for a few seconds. Then, without a flicker of expression, he turned to Nadira.

"Let's go, Nadira. We're leaving."

Nadira hesitated. Her eyes darted toward Rahman's body, still motionless on the ground, then to Arsy, who stood there in ruins. But the hesitation lasted only a heartbeat. Radit extended his hand. Nadira took it. Their fingers interlocked. The sight squeezed Arsy's chest like a vise. Tears fell freely now — she couldn't stop them even if she'd tried.

"Get out," Arsy whispered, her voice splintering. "Get out of my life."

Radit said nothing. He pulled Nadira along and they walked away from the yard with steady, unhurried steps — as though there was nothing in this world they needed to regret. The neighbors' murmurs swelled. But neither Radit nor Nadira so much as flinched.

"God, how can they be so heartless…"

"Wasn't that girl supposed to be her best friend?"

"Poor Arsy…"

Nadira kept her head down but kept walking, following Radit without looking back. Not once. And on that night, under the dim glow of the porch light, Arsy watched the two people she had trusted most in the world walk away — leaving her standing in the wreckage of a life she hadn't yet begun to comprehend.

The wail of an ambulance siren finally pierced the distance. Arsy flinched back to reality. She spun around and ran to her father.

"The ambulance! It's here!" someone shouted.

The white vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the house. Two paramedics jumped out, stretcher and emergency equipment in hand.

"What happened?" one of them asked.

"Heart attack!" a neighbor answered.

"He just collapsed!"

The medics immediately went to work on Rahman. One attached electrodes to his chest while the other checked his pulse and blood pressure. Arsy stood beside them, her entire body trembling.

"Sir — what's wrong with my father?" she asked, voice cracking with panic.

"We need to get him to the hospital now," the paramedic answered — quick but calm. "Please give us space."

Rahman was lifted onto the stretcher, and Arsy seized his hand, holding on as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

"I'm coming with him!" she blurted. The paramedic nodded. "Of course."

Without another thought, Arsy climbed into the ambulance beside her father. The rear doors slammed shut and the siren screamed back to life, shattering the quiet of the night. Inside, the harsh white lights made Rahman's face look even more drained of color. Arsy sat beside the stretcher, gripping his hand with both of hers.

"Dad…" Her voice fractured. "I'm so sorry, Dad…" Tears dropped one by one onto the back of his hand. "If I hadn't been so stubborn — if I hadn't pushed for the wedding — you never would have had to see any of this." A sob racked her body. "Please don't leave me, Dad. You're all I have."

The medics worked fast. One monitored the screen while another prepared oxygen. The staccato beeping of medical equipment filled the cramped space, amplifying the terror building in Arsy's chest. Rahman remained unconscious. His hand felt cold in hers.

"Listen to me, Dad…" She leaned close. "You're strong. You've always been strong. You have to be strong this time too."

The ambulance tore through empty city streets, siren lights bouncing off building walls. Arsy stared at her father's face without blinking, as if looking away — even for a second — might let something terrible happen.

"Don't leave me, Dad…" she whispered again and again, like a desperate prayer.

But there was no answer. And inside that ambulance racing toward the hospital, Arsy understood something with devastating clarity: tonight she hadn't just lost her fiance or her best friend. She was on the verge of losing the one person who was her entire world.

The ambulance lurched to a stop at the hospital entrance. The harsh fluorescent lights stabbed at Arsy's eyes — eyes that had known nothing but darkness and fear for what felt like hours.

"Get this patient to the ER, now! Cardiac arrest!" The paramedic's shout echoed the instant the doors swung open.

Arsy tightened her grip on her father's hand, terrified that he would vanish the moment she let go. But the team moved fast. The stretcher dropped to the ground and its metal wheels shrieked against the floor as they barreled down the ER corridor.

"Dad — where are they taking you?" Her voice was hoarse, barely there.

"We're bringing him to the emergency room, miss," a nurse answered without slowing. "Please try to stay calm."

Calm.

The word landed like a cruel joke. Arsy half-walked, half-ran alongside the stretcher, one hand locked on its railing, her eyes never leaving her father's unconscious face — the oxygen tube taped across his nose, his chest rising and falling in shallow, irregular rhythms.

The ER corridor stretched endlessly. Antiseptic stung her nostrils. Footsteps, beeping monitors, and shouted orders overlapped into a wall of sound that pressed against Arsy's chest until she could barely breathe.

When the stretcher stopped abruptly in front of a door marked TREATMENT ROOM — ER, a nurse stepped in front of Arsy and blocked her path.

"I'm sorry, miss. This is as far as you can go. Family members aren't allowed inside."