The clean white patient room felt quiet, accompanied only by the steady ticking of the wall clock.
Aretha lay propped up in the hospital bed, supported by pillows. Her face still looked pale because of the wound on her shoulder, which was neatly wrapped in bandages, but a faint smile adorned her lips.
Her short, loose hair gave her a simple yet elegant appearance. She looked calm. Her eyes sparkled, hiding a little secret known only to her.
Wisnu sat beside her, keeping her company.
A soft knock came from the other side of the door.
Aretha smiled and slightly raised herself.
“Come in,” she called in a soft but spirited voice.
The door opened. Dimas and Razak entered the room. Three other men followed behind them: Rian, Fahri, and Reno.
All five men were members of Naufal’s team who had taken the time to visit Aretha after completing their assignment.
With his trademark mischievous grin, Dimas immediately approached Aretha’s bed.
“Wow, you look awfully cheerful for someone who’s injured,” Dimas teased. He then sat in the chair beside the bed.
“Looks like someone’s in love, huh? You were just carried by our handsome commander and kept company at the hospital for a while.”
Dimas grinned. The other team members laughed.
Razak, sitting in the chair beside him, smiled as well and shook his head at Dimas’s antics.
Aretha blushed. She covered her face with both hands for a moment.
“Oh, Officer Dimas,” she protested softly. She couldn’t hide her smile. “Stop teasing me.”
Razak smiled too.
“We’ve already prepared a special gift if you really walk down the aisle with Officer Naufal.”
He smiled knowingly.
Aretha let out a small laugh. Her eyes sparkled.
“Don’t say that, Razak. Naufal is nobody to me except my team leader.”
“But you like him, right?” Rian asked. “Where else are you going to find a commander who’s the object of every female officer’s attention?”
Rian leaned forward, joining in on the teasing.
Aretha laughed softly again.
“He’s outside. He just got a call, but I don’t know from whom. Maybe it’s the office or his mother.”
“Probably his mother,” Razak said, raising his eyebrows knowingly. “The woman he worships most.”
Fahri chimed in, “Is he still single, or does he already have someone? A guy that handsome, and he still doesn’t have a girlfriend?”
Reno, who had been quietly observing the whole time, finally spoke up.
“Good point, Fahri. Hopefully he’s still single so he can end up with Second Police Brigadier Aretha.”
Aretha blushed again, even more deeply this time.
“Stop teasing me. I’m still focused on recovering from my injuries.”
She glanced at her bandaged shoulder.
Dimas, good at reading the room, quickly changed the subject.
“How’s your wound, Aretha? Does it still hurt badly?”
“It’s a little better, Officer Dimas. The doctor said I should be able to go home in a few days.” Aretha smiled with relief. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve all been so kind to me.”
“You’re welcome, Aretha,” Razak replied. “We’re glad we could visit. Get well soon.”
“And get married soon, too,” Dimas added.
The other team members laughed. The cheerful mood returned to the room.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
Naufal entered. He looked a little tired, but he was still friendly.
“Oh, I see it’s gotten crowded,” he said as he approached Aretha. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine now.”
“Thank God.”
The cell phone in Naufal’s hand vibrated. He looked at the name displayed on the screen: Sinta.
“I’m heading to the office first, okay? Come on, Wisnu.”
“Right,” Wisnu replied.
“Thanks for coming, Naufal,” Aretha said with a smile.
Naufal nodded, then glanced at the rest of his team.
“Thanks for visiting her, too. Take good care of Aretha, okay? Oh, right, the files are already on my desk, Police Inspector Two Dimas?”
“Yes, sir. They’re there.”
“Okay.”
Naufal walked out while answering the phone.
“Yeah, honey…”
For a moment, the room fell silent after Naufal and Wisnu left. The silence felt heavy, filled with unanswered questions.
Razak looked at Fahri with raised eyebrows.
“Did I hear that right?” he whispered. “He answered the phone and said, ‘Yeah, honey’?”
“Shh.” Dimas pushed Razak’s shoulder. “Keep your voice down.”
Razak looked at Aretha. She wore a faint smile, but it was difficult to interpret.
“Hopefully that smile isn’t a sign of disappointment,” Dimas murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
He watched Aretha closely.
Something about Aretha was different that day. Something deeper than mere physical recovery. Anxiety lingered beneath the sparkle in her eyes.
Rian, Fahri, and Reno exchanged glances. They felt it too.
Something was wrong.
The cheerful mood that had filled the room had vanished, replaced by a heavy silence full of questions.
Before they knew it, an hour had passed. The team members finally said their goodbyes and returned to the office. There were still stacks of paperwork they had to finish that day.
After they left, the silence felt even more piercing.
Aretha felt suffocated. She reached for a small book on the nightstand beside the bed. When she opened it, she found the page marked with a pink paper clip.
On that page was a handwritten poem in dark blue ink.
The poem was more than just a collection of verses. It was the outpouring of feelings Aretha had kept buried all this time.
Each stanza portrayed her admiration for Naufal—his courage when leading the team, his strength, and the gentleness hidden behind his stern manner.
When Aretha’s fingers touched the page marked by the pink paper clip, a wave of emotion crashed over her.
It wasn’t just a memory.
It wasn’t just words written on paper.
It was a flood of emotions she had held back all this time.
At first, a gentle tenderness touched her heart, like a soft breeze brushing across her face. She remembered writing the poem—secretly admiring Naufal.
She remembered Naufal’s courage when leading the team and the gentleness hidden behind his stern manner. Each line of the poem seemed to carry Aretha back to those moments.
Back to the days when her heart pounded every time she crossed paths with Naufal.
Back to the days when Naufal’s faint smile could make her day feel brighter.
But the deeper she read, the heavier the feelings she had to bear.
The verses that had once described her hidden love for Naufal now felt like knives stabbing her heart.
The words she had written herself seemed to transform into reminders of how impossible her feelings were. The image of Naufal just moments ago, speaking softly on the phone and calling someone “honey,” came crashing back into her mind.
The faint smile that had adorned Aretha’s lips slowly faded. Her face filled with doubt and pain.
Would her love remain a secret, buried forever?
Would Naufal ever return her feelings?
The lines of the poem that had once seemed beautiful now turned bitter, like pills she had to force herself to swallow.
Aretha felt wounded. Not because her shoulder still ached, but because of a far deeper wound—the wound in her heart.