Best friend or partner?

It was a tricky question, and the answer seemed to shift with each situation. When alone, friends were the ones who filled the gaps. But once committed to someone special, time with friends naturally dwindled. Priorities took their place, for better or worse.


Amir wrestled with these thoughts as he watched the bonfire flicker before him. Earlier that evening, Raya had rushed over to him, inviting him to join the others at Kia's villa. Kia couldn't step out because her little one was fussing, and Raya thought Amir's presence might cheer her up. But tonight, Amir couldn't say yes. First, he'd promised Erin they'd spend the evening together. And second, Fiki—Kia's husband—was here, a man whose place Amir respected.

The thought of Fiki stirred something in Amir. He'd lost count of how many times he'd felt uneasy around the man. Fiki was holding a guitar now, strumming along with his bandmates to a soft cover of their hit song. The gentle melody matched the cool, quiet night in Lembang. The band played in a clearing, circled by cross-legged listeners beside the bonfire, its flames crackling and casting warm light. Amir sat on the very edge, away from the heat but far enough to give Fiki his space.

He remembered the day Fiki had shown up at his office, casually asking about his friendship with Kia. They hadn't argued, but the conversation had been uncomfortable. For all his laid-back charm and youthful energy, Fiki was wise beyond his years. He knew Amir well enough to approach him for advice—asking him to recommend an internet provider, accompany him to buy equipment for the band's studio, and even help manage things around the house. They weren't close friends, but Fiki knew how to reach out. So when Raya asked Amir to go inside with her, he'd refused, feeling Fiki deserved that much respect.


But part of Amir's heart still clenched with mixed emotions. He'd been there through one of Kia's darkest times. She'd been pregnant when she found out about Fiki's private chats with a former bandmate—a woman from his past. Amir remembered the scene vividly, how Kia's anguish nearly crushed her, how she struggled through her pregnancy and a complicated delivery, even refusing to hold her newborn for two weeks. Fiki's betrayal haunted Amir's memory; he'd wanted to punch him back then. But something in Fiki had changed. He became more devoted, more thoughtful, replacing the problematic vocalist and making every effort to rebuild trust. Yet, those scars lingered in Kia. No new band member or shared moments could easily erase the trauma she carried.

The band played on, shifting to a stripped-down acoustic version of a famous Indonesian song "Tak Segampang Itu." The petite female vocalist, dressed in gothic makeup and a layered pink dress paired with a black leather jacket, captured the audience's attention. Part of her hair was braided into a headband, adding to her cool, edgy charm. As she sang, she pointed the microphone toward the audience.


'It's not that easy..." she sang.

'I'm looking for your replacement…" the crowd replied, caught up in the lyrics.

The bonfire was now surrounded by employees and their families. Mimi and Tata were even recording videos up front. But Amir sat alone at the edge, nursing the remains of a cigarette. He was wrapped up in a warm shirt, though he still felt a chill. He debated heading back to grab a jacket, but he didn't want to miss Erin's arrival.

Almost as if on cue, something nudged him to glance to his left. His heart seemed to sense her before his eyes did. And there she was, gliding toward him with a lightness that made her flowy top and white pants sway with every step. He couldn't help but smile, knowing her pants would likely pick up grass stains by the night's end.

Amir quickly scanned his surroundings, searching for anything she could sit on. Nothing but grass as far as he could see. Perhaps the canteen held a cardboard box, but that would mean leaving Erin waiting. Gently, he pressed his hand to the grass. It was damp with dew, though not muddy. After testing the ground, he began wiping the grass carefully, preparing a dry spot just for her.

This small act, though barely noticeable in the glow of the bonfire, was his way of showing her just how much he cared.

Like an idiot, Amir kept wiping the grass as Erin came closer. The moment she arrived, she bent down, brushing her hands on her pants, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Honey…" she whispered.

The bonfire's distant glow barely reached them, casting only a dim light over their little corner. It was fortunate too; it meant no one else could hear them.

'Is it okay to sit here? Or do you want me to grab a mat?" Amir asked softly.

'No, no, it's fine." Erin settled next to him, leaning close enough that their shoulders brushed. With a mischievous glint, she leaned in even closer.

'Trying to get cozy?" Amir teased. 'Hoping Mimi and Tata will snap some pictures?"

'Good idea…" Erin faced the others and inhaled, ready to shout when Amir swiftly covered her mouth.

'Are you serious?" he whispered, a playful spark in his eyes.

'What was that earlier?"

'Kidding, beautiful…" he replied, grinning.

'Oh, you think I'm beautiful, huh?" Erin chuckled, nudging him, "Am I really beautiful?" She cupped his face, turning him to look at her.

Around them, voices joined in song, and the fire cast a warm glow under a night sky sprinkled with stars and wisps of gray clouds. Erin's features softened in the dim light—the sparkle in her almond-shaped eyes, her graceful nose, her soft pink lips. She was the office's 'it" girl, the one everyone noticed. And now, here she was, calling him her boyfriend, playfully calling him darling. Amir still found it hard to believe.

But it was real.

The subtle fragrance of strawberries mixed with lychees drifted from her hair, bringing him back to the present. Erin sat with her hands on her knees, blinking up at him sweetly. Amir shook his head, marveling at his luck.

'So… I'm not pretty then?" she teased, pouting.

'No, no—beautiful! Very beautiful," Amir hurried to reassure her.

She flashed him a triumphant smile. 'Hehe, thanks, honey…" She gently patted his knee, a simple gesture that sent goosebumps across his skin. Amir quickly rubbed his hands together, trying to hide the trembling in his shoulders.

'What's up with you?" Erin asked, noticing his flustered expression.

'Nothing… Just a bit hungry. Have you eaten yet?" he asked.

'Not yet," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

'Want something from the canteen?" Amir offered.

She nodded, and Amir listed off options. 'They've got cimol, boxed rice, soto, boiled noodles. How about I surprise you with something unique?"

'Sounds perfect. Just make sure it's something I can't get easily in Jakarta."

'Got it." He stood up, heart racing as he half-ran to the canteen. Once there, he ordered some food and drinks, then sat on a plastic chair, taking a moment to catch his breath. He told himself it was just from the run, but deep down, he knew that wasn't the reason. Glancing across the field, he saw Erin, sitting alone, hugging her knees and swaying to the music. The sight tugged at his heartstrings.

Crazy, he thought. It was as if he were back in high school, smitten by a first crush. Every little touch from her left him dizzy. And when he thought of earlier in the rice field…

He closed his eyes, but the memory came flooding back—a stolen kiss in the golden fields, her on his lap, and that shared smile after. No regrets, no embarrassment, just the quiet acknowledgment of what had been building between them.

Amir scrubbed his face with his hands. This feeling was all too intense, like first love. There was excitement, joy, and a burst of nervous energy every time he thought of her.

'Sir, it's ready," the vendor called, breaking his reverie. Taking a steadying breath, Amir picked up the food and began his walk back. This time, he took slower steps, crossing the darkened field now bathed in the bonfire's gentle light.

Seeing him approach, Erin's face lit up. She clapped her hands excitedly, her eyes glued to the food package in his hands, unaware of Amir's efforts to mask his nerves. He knelt, placing the snacks on the ground between them, a strategic distance to keep his heart from racing too fast.

'What's this, honey?" Erin asked, pulling out two plastic bags of food, each a different color.

'This is cimol. The red one's yours—it's spicy. Mine's the brown one with peanut sauce," Amir explained. 'I can't really handle spicy food."

Erin took the red one, grinning playfully. 'Lucky for me. Spicy's just my thing."

He watched her, heart thumping, as she took a bite and scrunched her face in delight. For Amir, this felt like a perfect moment—just the two of them, bathed in the warmth of the fire, a gentle breeze carrying laughter and music through the night.

Erin reached into the plastic bag for the brown-coated food, then pulled out two cups of warm drinks. "This is bandrek," she said, holding the cups up. "Ever had it before?"

Erin shook her head and picked at the cimol with a thin bamboo skewer, curious.

"Bandrek is a traditional drink," Amir explained. "It's got coconut milk and ginger. It's delicious."

"So, this is bandrek?" Erin tilted her head towards the cups, still focused on her spicy cimol. Amir untied the plastic wrapping and poured the drink into their cups.

Erin tried a piece of the cimol, chewing thoughtfully. "It's savory," she remarked, as if analyzing every flavor. Her expression was serious, and Amir was reminded that she was the daughter of a chef, someone who cooked with care.

"Too salty?" Amir asked, watching her reaction.

She shook her head. "No, not salty. Just really savory. And the spice—it's got a kick to it!"

"Do you like it, then?"

"I don't dislike it. I might even buy it again," she teased, grinning. "Mind if I try yours?"

Amir nodded, handing over his own bag of cimol, but his fingers shook slightly as he tried to skewer one for her.

"Cold?" she asked, noticing his trembling.

He finally managed to skewer a piece and offered it to her without attempting to feed it directly. Erin took it, smiling at his bashful gesture, and tried the peanut-sauce-coated cimol.

Her face softened, eyebrows lifting as she took a thoughtful bite. "Wow," she said, surprised. "This one's even better! The peanut sauce is amazing—rich, slightly runny, but just perfect. And that garlic punch? So good."

"Really?" Amir tried one himself, chewing with a smile. To him, it tasted just as it always did, but seeing her enjoyment made it better. He pushed his cimol closer to her. "You can have this one if you want."

Erin's face brightened. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Amir gently patted her head, an affectionate gesture that felt natural, yet he quickly pulled his hand back, glancing around to see if anyone noticed.

Erin giggled, blowing him a pretend kiss that made Amir catch his breath. She looked around, too, then leaned closer. "You know," she whispered, "there's an empty room back in the building. We could... have some privacy, just to be close."

Amir chuckled nervously, trying to maintain his composure. "It's tempting, but... let's stay here for now. We can talk here just as easily."

Erin pouted playfully, shrugging. "I thought it would be nice... chatting, cuddling, especially in this cold."

Amir swallowed hard. The thought of curling up with her in a warm bed on such a chilly night made his pulse quicken. But he wasn't ready, not yet.

"No, really," he said gently but firmly. "We have plenty of time to talk."

Her shoulders dropped slightly, and she looked away. "You're not interested, then?"

Amir's heart sank. He reached for her hand, brushing his thumb against hers. "I am, more than you know. But I have my own principles."

"Like… waiting for marriage?" she asked, a trace of disbelief in her voice.

"Yes," Amir nodded, his voice steady. "It's not just about religion. It's about being responsible for you, for us."

Erin looked down, her face softening with respect. The campfire flickered, casting gentle shadows as they held each other's gaze, a silent promise passing between them.

Erin watched Amir as he spoke, a sense of admiration building as he explained his values. 'I believe that, as adults, whatever we do now is something we'll eventually pass down to the next generation," Amir said, his voice steady.

'Wait—you mean children?" Erin raised an eyebrow. 'Are you afraid your kids might experience karma for anything we do now? Isn't that a bit much?"

Amir gave a gentle smile. 'Yes, dear. I promised myself a long time ago to respect women. The world feels... unpredictable, you know? I can't imagine what it'll be like if I don't at least try to take care of us both."

Erin was taken aback. This was not what she expected. Amir didn't seem like the traditional type. He was surrounded by a rough crowd—the staff at his workplace were crass, and even his manager had a reputation for cheating. But Amir had standards. Erin could tell he wasn't just talking; he lived by these principles.

Maybe he just didn't trust her yet, she thought. Or maybe he was just... shy. Either way, Erin felt she needed to meet him halfway, to show him he could trust her with something meaningful.

After a moment, Erin took a breath and leaned in. 'There's something I'd like to share with you," she said, her voice soft but clear. 'I believe in you, and I want to be part of your future. So... I'm not actually Papa Rudolf's biological child. My mother was a widow when she met him. He raised me as his own, and they built a happy, loving family together. Even though I've been hurt by guys before, I've finally met someone good... someone really sweet. You. And I don't believe that what happened to my biological parents will happen to me. It's all about mindset, don't you think?"

Amir took a moment to absorb her words. So, Erin wasn't her father's biological daughter. And yet, she always spoke so highly of him. She was cheerful and warm, a product of a loving family, despite her parents' unconventional path. Amir admired that.

Erin noticed his silence. 'Are you confused?" she asked. 'What I mean is, I've decided that I don't want to repeat my mother's story. I don't want to be a widow. I want a happy marriage—forever."

Amir's brow furrowed. 'But... what's wrong with being a widow? Your mother must've had a good reason to leave, right?"

'Of course," Erin replied with a sigh. 'My biological father was... awful."

'Then why say you don't want to be like your mother? She sounds incredible. She took a stand, took care of you alone. Do you regret anything about her marriage to your dad?"

'No, of course not. I mean, that's why I'm here." Erin laughed, but her smile softened as Amir continued.

'Your mother is remarkable, Erin," he said gently. 'She met someone great because she herself is great. And you're their daughter. Don't forget to keep that strength within yourself."

Erin looked up at him, her eyes bright. 'You know, I'm curious. Why are you so strong about holding onto these principles? It's not exactly common anymore..."

Amir paused, gathering his thoughts. 'Imagine your father," he said finally. 'Do you feel loved by him?"

'Absolutely."

'Then think about this. If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be respected. I'd never want her to end up in some hotel room with someone who doesn't care about her. Just imagining it makes me shiver."

'What, you think you're my dad now?" Erin teased, amused.

'If I were your father and I knew Amir dared to take you to a hotel, I'd knock some sense into him!" Amir said, his tone playful but determined. He held up his arm to show his goosebumps. 'See? The thought of it makes my hair stand on end."

'Wow," Erin chuckled, shaking her head. 'You'd make a good father, you know?"

'A great father, right?" Amir grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Erin was speechless. She'd always thought of men as cats, women as fish—if a fish was offered, the cat wouldn't refuse. But Amir had surprised her yet again, gently dismantling her assumptions about desire and commitment. She felt her cheeks warm, both embarrassed and grateful.

Without thinking, she reached up and pinched his nose playfully, twisting it until he groaned. She didn't care if anyone saw.

He simply laughed, letting her playfully twist his nose as if they were in their own world. They didn't notice the sleek cellphone camera, capturing every little moment between them from a distance.

***