WHO TOLD YOU TO GET DIVORCED

The expression on a young man's face appeared somber as his hand landed on the door handle of a café. For some reason, his mind felt tumultuous. The same went for his heart, which felt like it had been tossed around. The message he had received fifteen minutes ago was the reason why he looked this way.

The young man, Rakan, sighed in frustration before opening the café door, steeling himself even though he knew what would happen next.

His gaze fell upon the back of a girl sitting by the window, engrossed in her phone. There was a cup of coffee on her table; he knew it was her favorite, an affogato.

Then his focus shifted to the large backpack containing a guitar on the chair next to her. She must have just returned from her music lesson. That was just like her.

Rakan got up from his seat, approached, and sat across from the girl. The corner of his lips lifted. Rakan was always captivated by the natural beauty of Rea, his girlfriend. A headstrong girl with a carefree attitude had successfully ensnared Rakan.

Meanwhile, the object of his intense scrutiny began to feel disturbed. The girl named Rea shifted her attention to the front. She smiled and removed the earphones from her ears. For a few moments, they exchanged glances, with indescribable emotions and a suffocating feeling in their chests. One of them couldn't accept, while the other was trying to let go.

Once again, Rakan cursed silently in his heart. The damn message Rea had sent him a few minutes ago came back to haunt his memory. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed so tightly. He had never felt this much pain, sadness, and frustration before.

Then he was forced to let go, without a clear reason or explanation. He was confused, lost in thought, and his mind wandered aimlessly.

A heart that was once filled was now emptied by a void. His heart was hollow, unable to accept the reality of what had happened. Rakan didn't hate; he was just disappointed. What was even more frustrating was when those words were bluntly spoken by the love of his life.

"I want to break up!"

Rakan's jaw clenched, his heart shattered. No matter how strong he tried to hold back the pain, he couldn't bear it. Rakan hadn't accepted it yet, and unfortunately, Rea was forcing him to let go.

His mouth felt heavy. He wanted to respond, but his words were stuck in his throat along with his answer. So, Rakan reached the point of resignation. He sat there in silence while Rea looked at him with an expression that couldn't be explained.

And then, in the next moment, one word escaped Rakan's lips, perfectly reflecting how he felt at that moment.

"Why?" Rakan responded softly to Rea's gaze, in stark contrast to the girl's demeanor. Rea remained impassive.

Rakan still held his ground, even though he knew he wouldn't get the answer he wanted.

As expected, Rea stood up, slung her guitar backpack over her shoulder, and stared at Rakan expressionlessly. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tied back.

"My answer isn't any different from the message you read earlier. There's no reason, Rakan. This relationship just ends here. I'm done," Rea said, her tone firm at the end of her sentence.

The suffocating feeling intensified. Rakan watched as Rea's back slowly disappeared behind the café door. And in the end, he couldn't do anything. Rakan couldn't believe that their relationship had ended so abruptly, suddenly, and strangely.

For hours, Rakan sat there in silence, his face filled with frustration, ignoring the curious glances of the café's other patrons.

Like most broken-hearted people, Rakan needed time alone. He needed to suppress the pain in his chest and perhaps slowly learn to let go. Just as Rea had advised him. He couldn't dwell on this heartache forever.

Rakan's attention turned to the chair that had been vacated by the café's previous customer just hours ago. Reflecting on the moments he had spent with Rea, it had been so enjoyable. He longed for those times. But the more he remembered, the tighter his chest felt.

So, Rakan shifted his focus to the table. A male waiter had just picked up Rea's empty coffee cup, leaving behind the wet mark on the table.

Gradually, Rakan noticed it, and his lips curled into a wistful smile.

"She's gone, but the memories remain. Like the stain on the table that lingers even though your drink has been gone for hours," he whispered softly.

Rakan's story was similar to the meaning of that stain. Just like the mark deliberately left behind, he wasn't sure by whom or for what reason.

A cold drink, once full, now half-empty, and then empty. But even though the glass had been taken away, the stain would still be there, nearby, and wouldn't disappear unless it was erased by time or by him.

That's exactly how he felt now. What had initially brought joy had gradually diminished until it became empty, and then it had disappeared without him realizing it, leaving behind a trace that he had forgotten to erase, whether in the form of memories, pain, or scars.

Kulacino...