That Man

The car driven by Pak Kuncoro slowed to a stop in front of Aruna’s house. Tonight, Danar had deliberately brought the company driver with him, simply so someone could help carry the gifts he had prepared for Aruna’s family.

Danar checked his appearance one last time before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out.

This is it. I can’t mess this up tonight.

He opened the car door and walked confidently toward Aruna’s house. Behind him, Pak Kuncoro—whom Danar had also asked to dress neatly—carried a basket of carefully selected fresh fruit and a fairly large box filled with an assortment of premium traditional Indonesian cakes.

Danar himself carried a long wooden box that felt surprisingly heavy in his hands, as heavy as the memories of the past weighing on his mind.

He knocked on the door and called out a greeting.

The door opened.

Aruna greeted him with a wide smile before ushering him into the living room. Her parents were already waiting there.

Her father sat upright on his favorite single-seat sofa, his expression stiff, while her mother immediately stood to welcome Danar, embracing him as warmly as she would her own son.

Pak Kuncoro followed Aruna to the dining room and placed the gifts he was carrying on the table as Aruna instructed him before returning to the living room.

“I’ll wait in the car, Pak Danar.”

Danar nodded.

Pak Kuncoro bowed respectfully to Aruna’s parents before heading for the door, accompanied by Aruna.

“Please, have a seat, Nak Danar.”

Mom’s warm voice broke the stiffness hanging in the living room.

Danar nodded and sat on the sofa opposite her father. Calmly, he placed the wooden box he was carrying on the table.

A moment later, Aruna returned from the front door and immediately took a seat beside Danar. Her mother sat on another sofa to their left.

The tension crept back in, enveloping the living room until it suddenly felt suffocating.

Dad’s eyes remained fixed on the long wooden box on the table before slowly lifting to meet Danar’s gaze. A cold glint in his eyes made Danar uncomfortable.

Danar cleared his throat.

He had rehearsed these words since yesterday and didn’t want to make a mistake simply because nervousness had suddenly gotten the better of him.

He knew his girlfriend’s father was not going to make this evening easy.

“Bapak … Ibu, I came here tonight not only to pay my respects, but also with the sincere intention of asking for your permission and blessing. I want to take my relationship with Aruna to the next level. I want to ask Aruna to be my wife.”

Silence fell instantly.

Aruna lowered her head, silently praying that her father would give them his blessing.

Meanwhile, Mom clasped both hands in front of her chest, her eyes glistening with emotion.

Dad said nothing.

He simply leaned back against his single-seat sofa, folded his arms across his chest, and stared at Danar with an intensely cold, assessing gaze.

“Bapak?” Mom finally spoke when the silence had stretched into something increasingly awkward. “Danar is waiting for your answer. Personally, I approve of Nak Danar’s intention to marry our daughter. What do you think?”

Dad drew a deep breath.

His arms, which had been folded across his chest, moved to rest along the sides of the sofa.

His chest felt tight.

A lump of rejection seemed to clog his throat, but he knew this man was the one his daughter loved.

Dad wanted to shout no.

But when he saw the hopeful look in his eldest daughter’s eyes, he realized he had no choice but to swallow every argument against the marriage that he had prepared ever since he first noticed the ring on Aruna’s finger.

“Bram .…”

Dad turned sharply.

Calling each other by their names was a kind of code between them whenever one of them disapproved of something. It could also be a sign of anger, especially when one of them was so upset that they refused to use their usual Bapak and Ibu.

This time, Dad understood exactly what his wife meant.

She didn’t want him to ruin the evening.

Dad cleared his throat, breaking the tension.

His deep voice echoed softly through the room.

“I’ve heard everything you’ve said. But marriage isn’t simply about transferring the responsibility of feeding my daughter from me to you.”

Danar nodded quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I understand, Pak. I know I still have many shortcomings, but I promise I’ll always make Aruna happy.”

Young men’s promises always sound cheap, Dad thought cynically.

Dad looked at Aruna.

His daughter seemed to be holding her breath, staring at him as though he were the judge who would decide whether her life could continue as she wished.

His heart sank.

If he said no tonight, he knew he would lose his daughter’s smile forever.

Dad let out a long breath, allowing his shoulders to sag slightly.

For tonight, he chose to set aside his objections for the sake of his daughter’s happiness.

“If Aruna has chosen you, then it means she is entrusting her life to you. And I … choose to trust my daughter’s decision.”

Mom immediately released a long sigh of relief.

Aruna fought back tears.

Inside, she could do nothing but give thanks.

“Thank you, Pak. Thank you for trusting me.”

Danar’s voice trembled.

His whole body felt weak with relief, but he was grateful to have made it through the ordeal by the skin of his teeth.

Dad gave a stiff nod.

His expression hardened again when Danar opened the wooden box on the table and pushed it toward him.

Inside was a thick white envelope that seemed almost to challenge his pride.

“Bapak … Ibu, there’s some money in this envelope to cover the initial administrative expenses and other preparations for the wedding that you may need.”

Dad shifted his gaze from the thick envelope to Danar’s eyes.

His expression remained rigid.

“My family isn’t short of money. I’m still perfectly capable of paying for Aruna’s wedding myself.”

The warmth that had briefly entered the room vanished, replaced once again by tension.

Aruna held her breath.

Her grip tightened around the hem of her blouse until her knuckles turned white.

Danar could feel his back suddenly damp with cold sweat.

He leaned forward slightly, looking from one future in-law to the other with the most sincere expression he could muster.

“I know, Pak. And the amount in this envelope could never repay you for the way you and Ibu raised Aruna with dignity,” Danar replied quickly, his voice remaining low but firm. “But this is a symbol of my responsibility. It doesn’t mean I don’t respect either of you.”

Dad fell silent.

His eyes narrowed as he weighed the sincerity of the man sitting before him.

The silence that followed was so heavy that even the ticking of the clock on the living room wall seemed reluctant to make a sound.

From the corner of his eye, Dad noticed his wife clenching her fists tightly in her lap.

He let out a long breath—a heavy exhalation that sounded almost like a defeat he had no choice but to accept.

After all, he didn’t want his wife to call him by his name a second time.

“I’ll hold you to your word,” Dad finally said, his voice deep and cold, without a trace of a smile. “Responsibility isn’t just about numbers on a piece of paper. Today, I’ll accept this as a sincere gesture, not as payment for my daughter.”

At those words, the tension in Danar’s shoulders instantly melted away.

He finally released the breath he had been holding, feeling the numbness in his fingertips slowly disappear.

Meanwhile, a single tear of relief slipped down Aruna’s cheek.

She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand before anyone could notice.

“Since that matter is settled, I think we should put an end to the formalities. I’ve already prepared dinner. So, let’s enjoy the meal.”

Dad immediately rose from his old sofa without waiting for a response, leaving behind a tension that slowly melted into an awkward sense of relief.