This morning, I woke up much earlier than usual and was ready half an hour ahead of my normal schedule for work. Even though I was still sleepy from the exhaustion of yesterday's trip to Bogor—and maybe also because of my period—I didn't want to be late, especially since Damar might be picking me up soon. My reflection in the vanity mirror looked perfect, but why hadn't the man who said he would pick me up arrived yet?
I regretted not stopping by the office yesterday to grab my car. I could have just woken up at my usual time, but I remembered that my new boss had a motto: "Better early than late." So I forced myself to get up early. But now, he hadn't shown up at all. Should I call him? What if he hadn't even woken up yet because he was too exhausted from driving?
No, that seemed unlikely. I knew Damar always wanted everything to be perfect. There was no way he would skip work just because he was tired. His obsession with perfection was something I could never compete with. I grew more anxious as my watch seemed to move faster and faster, but there was still no message from Damar saying he was waiting outside.
Annoyed from waiting too long, I finally left my room. I shouldn't have relied on someone else in a situation like this. I wasn't going to wait for Damar anymore and decided to take a taxi to work.
What an annoying boss!
My steps quickened as I left my apartment complex, grumbling about Damar in my head the whole time. Maybe he had done this on purpose—pretending to be nice by offering to pick me up. Even after getting into the taxi, I was still fuming.
Damar knew I didn't like him, so maybe he was deliberately trying to irritate me. I should have seen this coming. The only thing I needed to do now was stay calm and not show any emotion. Luckily, I had woken up early, so the time I wasted waiting for Damar hadn't made me late for work.
"Where are you going?" I asked when I ran into Geri, who had just stepped out of the elevator.
"Getting coffee," he replied casually.
"Coffee?" I repeated in disbelief. "You're seriously going for coffee? It's almost work hours."
"The boss is in a meeting, and Damar isn't coming in—he's sick," he said.
I could believe that Mr. Hardi, the highest-ranking official at Global Kimia, was in a meeting, but Damar being sick and skipping work? That sounded impossible.
"Damar is sick?" I asked again.
"Mieke just told me," Geri replied, mentioning one of the HR staff. "I'm off to grab my coffee," he added, patting my shoulder.
For some reason, I wanted to scold Geri for his annoying attitude. How could he go wandering around when the boss wasn't in the office?
But rather than thinking about Geri, something more important was on my mind. Could Damar really be sick?
Ah, whatever. He's been the boss for only one day and he's already sick. Serves him right.
***
"Can you stop by Damar's house after work?" Mieke asked as I was putting away some documents for Mr. Hardi to sign.
I widened my eyes and looked at her in confusion. "Why would I go to Damar's house?"
"There are some documents that need his signature," she replied.
"Just wait until he comes back. He'll probably be fine by tomorrow," I said. There was no way I was going to my most hated boss's house.
"I'm worried he might not recover by tomorrow. I think he's pretty sick," Mieke added.
"Why me? Ask Geri or someone else," I protested. "Or just email the documents that need his signature. Why do we have to bring them to his house?"
"We need a physical signature," Mieke said.
"No way. I'm working late today. Get someone else to do it," I refused.
"But Damar specifically asked for you to deliver them. He said you're the only one who knows his address."
Mieke's words made me freeze. My eyes widened in shock. She walked away after handing me a stack of documents sealed in a brown envelope, clearly not interested in hearing any more objections from me.
Damn it! Why am I the only one who knows Damar's address?
Oh, right. I remember now. It was because I was too kind-hearted back then. When Damar was a new employee, I once offered to drive him home.
And now, that one act of kindness was back to haunt me.
Once again, I felt extremely annoyed. Damar had managed to contact Mieke to let her know he was sick and even requested me to deliver the documents, yet he hadn't bothered to tell me he couldn't pick me up this morning?
Next time, I won't believe a word he says.
***
An hour past the end of the workday, I was still sitting at my desk. Honestly, I didn't want to leave. If I could, I would just sleep in the office.
"Go home. It's getting late," Geri suddenly said from behind me.
I hadn't seen him in the office all day, so I was sure he hadn't been working hard.
Geri started making creepy laughter sounds to scare me, and I had no choice but to grab my bag and head downstairs.
"Help me out," I pleaded when we got into the elevator.
"With what?" he asked.
"Delivering these to Damar's house," I answered.
"You do it. I'm picking up my girlfriend," he refused.
"I'll give you extra money for your date," I said, holding out two hundred-thousand-rupiah bills.
"Sorry, Bulan. Your offer isn't tempting enough at the start of the month when payday just hit," he smirked.
"Just this once. I have a stomachache," I pleaded, putting on my best pitiful look.
"You look perfectly fine. I'm out of here," Geri said, quickly stepping out of the elevator, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded.
I should have asked Rien instead. She's one of Damar's biggest fans.
I sighed in frustration, realizing I had no choice but to deliver these documents myself.
---
Damar's house wasn't far from the office. He lived alone in a housing complex, while his parents worked overseas and only returned once every six months.
I knew a lot about Damar from our conversations—back when I didn't see him as my rival. Now, I had no interest in knowing anything about him anymore.
As my car entered his neighborhood, my annoyance grew stronger. He was the one who was sick, yet I was the one being inconvenienced.
Serves him right for getting sick. He should have taken better care of himself, especially after becoming a division head.
I let out a long sigh as I pulled up in front of his house. It was completely dark—not a single light on.
Don't tell me he's unconscious in there.
I wasn't worried for his sake—I just didn't want to be the one dealing with it.
I walked as quietly as possible, careful not to let my high heels make too much noise. Then, I pressed the doorbell.
I'd ring it three times. If he didn't answer, I'd leave.
First ring. Silence. Only the distant hum of traffic.
Second ring. Still nothing.
In my heart, I hoped the third ring would be the same.
Unfortunately, as soon as I pressed the doorbell the third time, all the house lights flicked on, and moments later, I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.
I should have stopped at two rings.
"Come in," said the man standing in the doorway.
I squinted at him, disbelief written all over my face.
Liar.
He said he was sick?!
Just look at him—he looked perfectly fine, his hair still damp from a shower, the scent of his cologne strong enough to make me choke.(*)