Breaking Through

I promised myself years ago that I would never be consumed by misery whenever my relationship ended. When I fell in love, I fell in hard, but when I dropped out of love, I fell out just as hard. I refused to be a sad, pathetic, and miserable guy. And I also never believed in true love, soulmates, or happily ever after. That was the laziest concept about relationships I had ever heard! I had never been a hopeless romantic guy obsessing over grand romantic gestures. And if anyone wanted to bring up some data, the fact that couples got divorced should be enough. Divorce shouldn’t have existed if that concept worked, should it? The happily ever after only happened in movies and romance novels. People should have known that by then.

Alas, here I was, caught in the jumble of emotions, trying to pick myself up after Zack. Constantly thinking about him was perplexing and frustrating, considering my usual contempt for dwelling on past relationships. Yet, there was something different about what we had. Despite only having less than a year, our connection trumped any past relationships I had before him.

Being with Zack challenged my skepticism about true love and happily ever after. Though the ending was far from happy, I was tempted to label what I had with him as close to what true love was. What if things had turned out differently? The what-ifs haunted me relentlessly.

Zack made me feel like I was his one and only. He had a way of making me feel special, cherished, and understood. He showed me what an unconditional love was. Though our relationship was not perfect, we were happy; I was delighted. I had never known that getting over him was mentally exhausting. It was a battle I couldn’t seem to win.

Every little detail of Zack was etched in my mind as if I had memorized them all. His laughter echoed in my ears, and the image of his dimples graced my thoughts. Even the way he held his knife or fork seemed imprinted in my memory. And his words, “You meant a lot to me, Glenn,” kept playing in my mind. I missed him.

I gulped down the white wine I ordered at Il Riccio as if to wash down any lingering pain. It vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving no evidence of its existence. If Zack had been by my side, I could almost hear his voice scolding me in his usual way, “Glenn, that’s not how you drink wine!” His disapproving words sounded loud and clear in my thoughts. Even the view of this breathtaking place, none other than the luxurious island of Capri, nestled within the glamorous Sorrentine Peninsula, was a constant reminder of his absence. He had wanted to take me here, but I ended up alone on this island.

Staring at the blue sea and listening to people speaking English, from British accents to American ones, some waiters rapidly speaking in Italian, Zack was smiling in every corner of that restaurant because the only thing about him that I could bring to Italy was the memory of him. You know what, Zack? I knew you would have teased me relentlessly there. You were the only one who could make me blush. And I would have done anything to have that in an instant. I wouldn’t have minded, Zack. Tease me as much as you like because I wanted you to be here.

“Glenn?”

My entire body tensed up when I heard that voice. I mean, seriously? How on earth could someone recognize me here? Capri was like a hidden gem, a place where hardly any Indonesians would venture. I had hoped for anonymity after leaving Bali, but life certainly loved throwing jokes at me.

I slowly turned my face upward, cautiously confirming my suspicion. And there he was, standing right in front of me. The audacity! It took every ounce of self-control not to throw the empty wine glass at his face. I mean, talk about a dramatic exit. Screaming like a lunatic wouldn’t have been my finest moment, that’s for sure.

Damn it! Couldn’t life just let me have a moment of peace and calm? It appeared not.

How could he possibly know of my presence at Il Riccio? And what on earth could have brought him here? My mind was brimmed with questions, yet their answers were uncertain.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He would have swiftly backed off and given me some space if he had possessed an ounce of rationality. But no, this man embodied stubbornness and self-centeredness in its purest form. I clenched my fists, trying to keep my rising anger in check as he responded to my question with a disarming smile. I couldn’t afford to get caught up in any more drama at that moment. I had enough on my plate to deal with my struggles and battles.

That guy looked the same as the last time I saw him. The five o’clock shadow, the Hermes bracelet he only wore during our dinner dates, and that familiar haircut. If circumstances were different, we could have ended up in a heated argument or a passionate encounter. But he was the last person I wanted to see on this planet.

“You underestimated the power of fate. You haven’t changed much, have you? How are you, Glenn?”

Damn it!

I had been staring at the balance sheet until my eyes crossed, but I still couldn't find the mistake. Luckily, my hair didn't fall out easily. If it had, I would have been bald by then because I hadn't stopped pulling my hair out. Dammit! Finding the mistake in the sea of numbers was the one thing that always ruined my mood. On top of that, one of the clients asked me to check their assets because they were retiring. I could officially say goodbye to the weekend.

I needed to get out of there. Screw the deadline!

If there were people who thought working alone from home was flexible, it meant they had never experienced having to handle and manage everything on their own. I didn't have office mates to talk to, no office environment to distract me, no gossip to fill my day, and every time a problem ensued, I had to solve it myself. Usually, I was pretty patient, but my patience had run out this time. Because if I insisted on staring at the laptop and kept working, I would seriously have no hair left.

I immediately left my desk and grabbed my jacket, leaving the faint sound of the waves behind. I didn't care that it was two in the afternoon, and the sun outside felt like having a tantrum. I couldn't stay inside the apartment. I needed fresh air. And only one place could take my mind off my work. As much as I enjoyed working with numbers, I refused to let them rule my life. I worked alone and never wanted to work in a company because of the working hours and seniority that stressed me out. Being a private accountant meant I didn't have all the perks of working in a company, but at least I still had a bit of freedom.

"These damn stairs!"

The one thing that always annoyed me every time I left the apartment was the stairs. This apartment might have been superb and strategically located, and the balcony might have been the perfect spot to watch the sun go down, but the stairs always made me curse even though I had lived there for two years. Sometimes, I imagined this building having an elevator so my legs wouldn't ache whenever I climbed to the third-floor apartment. I was just lazy when it came to exercise, and going up and down the stairs made me gasp for breath.

After considering which way to go, I decided to take the Oberoi route. It shouldn't have been congested at that hour. I hated going that way unless I was forced to. Besides being narrow, it was a two-way street. You wouldn't have been able to move if a construction truck passed by. When I first moved there—even though it wasn't my first time in Bali—I didn't understand why people in Bali made such narrow roads with so many bends. But after a few months, I started getting used to it and took alternative routes whenever possible.

And I was right. Oberoi was smooth sailing, and within twenty minutes, I parked my motorbike in front of a bookstore that only sold English language books. This place had always been my go-to place when numbers became my foe. Although it was more practical to shop online and read with my e-reader, nothing beat the atmosphere of being among physical books. It was just magical. I could spend hours in a bookstore without getting bored. Even though I always planned to buy one or two books, whenever I read an intriguing blurb, I couldn't resist taking it to the cashier. I didn't know how many books I had in my apartment that were still sealed because of my impulsive nature every time I went to a bookstore.

I had been browsing Goodreads a few days ago, and now, a few book titles have come to mind. Because my work was already serious enough, I always turned to fiction as an escape. I wouldn't say I liked romance novels, though. So cringy! The bookstore was more relaxed than usual, so I could freely choose books before stopping by the restaurant across the street. It had become a habit whenever I went to this bookstore in Seminyak. I always followed it with a visit to the restaurant. If I was in the mood, I read a bit of the newly purchased book, but if not, I just sat quietly and watched people pass by.

Because I was too focused on reading the blurbs, I didn't notice someone squatting next to me when I walked to the side. As a result, that person stumbled, and I almost fell if it hadn't been for the shelf in front of me to hold on to. Fortunately, no books fell in a messy heap that would have added to my embarrassment. The incident happened so quickly that by the time I balanced myself, I reached out to help the person stand up.

"Oops, my bad. Didn't even notice anyone around," I apologized, a hint of sheepishness evident in my voice.

To my surprise, the guy responded with a charming smile—damn, he had dimples!—and reached out to shake my hand. I couldn't help but notice his soft and warm touch. "No worries. Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

I nodded, my eyes momentarily drawn to the book he held. It was one of the books I had been meant to purchase. Quickly tearing my gaze away from the tempting pages, I refocused on the person standing before me, who was engrossed in rearranging a few fallen books on the bottom shelf.

"Looks like you were so engrossed in your search that you didn't notice someone sneaking up on you. Which book were you looking for?" I inquired, curious to know more about his literary preferences.

Without hesitation, I pointed directly at the book in his grasp and confidently replied, "Actually, I'm looking for the one you're holding right there."

"This one?"

I nodded. "I read the reviews a few days ago, and it seemed interesting."

"My friend said the same thing," the guy replied, showing off his dimples again.

Damn him! I couldn't stop staring at his face. Crap! SOS!

The guy raised an eyebrow, curious about my quest for other books. "Any other titles you're searching for?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, my expression conveying a lack of enthusiasm. "Nah, not really. I had my eye on 'The Gift of Rain' by Tan Twan Eng, but it looks like they're fresh out of it."

He seemed intrigued and suggested, "Why don't you ask if they can order it for you?"

I chuckled lightly, shaking my head. "Nah, not that desperate for it, to be honest."

The situation grew increasingly awkward, which was precisely the type of scenario I detested the most. Rather than prolonging my confusion, I decided it was time to make a swift exit.

"Anyway, sorry once again, alright?" I apologized, hoping to diffuse the tension. As the guy nodded understandingly, I wasted no time in making my escape. However, before I could put too much distance between us, I heard him call out to me, stopping me in my tracks.

"I have a copy of 'The Gift of Rain’ at home. I don't mind lending it to you if you want to read it."

I paused for a moment. What the hell did he say?

"No need," I declined as politely as possible.

Unexpectedly, the guy approached me, and when we were close, he reached out his hand—and gave me those dimples again! Bless his parents! "I'm Zack."

I looked at his outstretched hand to divert my attention from his dimples. I could have just left immediately and ignored this Zack guy who was trying to label me as someone without manners. But I didn't have time to get to know someone new when my mind was already full like this.

"Glenn." Finally, I shook Zack's hand for the sake of etiquette. The skin of his palm was so soft that it immediately made me think that Zack was a genuine metrosexual guy.

"Want to discuss 'A Little Life' over coffee?"

Due to feeling guilty for bumping into Zack, I finally agreed to his invitation. Something I had never done. Never in a million years! But having coffee with Zack would give me a better view of his dimples. "Bali Deli?"

Zack couldn't hold back his laughter—probably because he knew the restaurant I mentioned was across the street—but then he nodded. "Excellent."