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Trigger Warning: This story contains content related to sexual violence and may be distressing for some readers. Please proceed with caution.

Setya received a strange mail as he finished his lunch. He glanced the sender’s name and tried to recall who the person was. Was she someone he screwed? or just another random match from the dating app?

After a while, it ring, “Ah, the girl in the orchid garden. What does she want now?” Setya mused, saving the full email for later. His hunger was more pressing. He had skipped breakfast and barely caught the commuter train this morning. 

A plate of his favorite Nasi Padang devoured and his belly full. Setya hurried back to the office. The pile of works was waiting, but his curiosity kicked in. He opened the email again as he walked out from the resto.

Setya frowned. This time, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had shifted. The words in the email lingered, unsettling in their starkness. He slipped his phone into the pocket of his maroon hoodie. His fingers briefly brushing against fabric as if trying to dismiss the unease that clung to him. As he walked back to his desk, he adjusted his glasses, a habitual motion that usually brought clarity. He tried to focus on the tasks at his hands. But even as he worked, he couldn’t ignore the gnawing discomfort that had taken hold. 

For a brief moment, he paused staring blankly at his laptop screen, displayed a procurement report he had zero interest in reading. He felt a flicker of something unfamiliar. A shadow of doubt, almost regret but not quite. He pictured his wife, his two daughters, and baby son in his mind—life he had so carefully built. The concern on his face went. Replaced by a cold and empty stare as the weight of the email settled on. He resumed typing at his keyboard. A tiny seed of emotion had been planted. It was barely noticeable but it would take root in the quiet moments right after the peace was erased.

(But that only happened in an ideal universe)

In reality, Setya smirked. Force-closed the email window on his phone and put it back into the pocket of his maroon hoodie with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Ah, another one trying to make me feel guilty,” he thought. His lips curling slightly as he pulled up the hood. He pushed open his door to his office, and within seconds, his mind already occupied with the reports and invoices waiting for his signature. The email, like thousands before, held no power over him. “Well, things happen,” his empty, soulless eyes seemed to say as he adjusted his glasses. 

He sat down at his desk and the mundane routine of his workday swallowed him whole once again. The cycle continued uninterruptely, with the same emptiness described in that email. And as the day wore on, the words dissolved from his thought like they were never existed at all. 

***

A girl wearing a smile sighed slowly, letting her thumb hover over her phone screen for just a moment before pressing the “Send” button. A calm sense of release settled over her as the message left her outbox. 

Tucking the phone into her sling bag, she turned and walked toward the flower market. Her steps were lighter than they had been in a long time. She soon found herself drawn to a stall filled with flowers. Roses, peonies, lilies, tulips, chrysanthemums, garberas, hydrangeas, she greeted each one as if they were her best friends. She then picked up a beautiful Anggrek Bulan Putih.

“Nembe wae teka kuwi, Mba,” the flower stall keeper explained that the white orchid she picked up had just arrived from the farmer. She nodded and inhaled the freshness from the flowers. The orchid represented everything he was not: resilient, alive, and capable of thriving. Orchids bloom, even in the most unforgiving environments.

She smiled. Knowing that unlike Setya, the orchid was not lost in emptiness. It bloomed, vibrant, enduring, just as she would continue to do.

Firdhaussi
August, 2024

Images: Private Doc