Drizzle washed the orchid leaves on the porch of the classic wooden house belonging to Grandpa Hendra and Grandma Melia. The quiet village suddenly came alive with laughter from inside the house. That afternoon, Maya had just finished her last class at college and hurried straight home to help her mother. As usual, her mother was busy serving warm snacks to welcome the homeowners’ extended family, who had just returned from a long journey.
Maya was crouching in the corner of the porch, tidying the flowerpots, when firm footsteps clattered across the wooden floor. She bent her head slightly, absorbed in what she was doing and with no intention of disturbing the group that had just arrived.
A young man stood tall in the doorway. He was exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered, making the porch doorframe seem narrower. He wore a simple gray knit sweater that only emphasized his wide shoulders. His face had the sharp features typical of a French man—Inherited from his Dad, who was French by birth—yet they were softened by the warmth of his mother’s features and her Indonesian heritage. His face was clear-cut and handsome, carrying an aloof air that was difficult to reach.
Caleb Alexander had just set foot in Indonesia after spending years settled in Paris, France. His family’s relocation from the fashion capital was not a short vacation, but a major decision to settle down and care for Grandpa Hendra and Grandma Melia in their old age.
As Caleb stepped onto the porch, his gaze accidentally met Maya’s just as she rose to her feet. For a few seconds, Caleb’s hazel-brown eyes stared directly at the girl in her casual college uniform. Yet instead of approaching or saying anything, Caleb simply fell silent. His expression remained flat, maintaining his distance with a cold calm.
Maya was no less indifferent. She merely gave him a polite, perfunctory nod—a formal gesture to show respect to her mother’s employer’s grandson—then turned away and continued wiping the orchid leaves, as though the handsome young man’s presence did not affect her at all.
Caleb shifted his gaze toward the rain-soaked yard, then turned and went inside without saying a word. Paris might have been the place that raised him, but here on the porch of this old house, in the silence and distance fixed between them, a quiet ripple had just begun.