Chapter 44: The Things Left Unsaid

Tonight, the streets felt overwhelmingly crowded. Maybe because it was Saturday, or more precisely, Saturday night. A night of freedom for students to release their fatigue after being consumed by endless routines of studying. It could also be called the most anticipated night for teenagers in love, like me.

Vehicle lights filled the roads, forming long lines that seemed endless. Horns blared from every direction. Motorcycles and cars competed for space, while young people passed by, whether heading out for a stroll, looking for entertainment, or simply gathering with their friends.

I let out a long breath. “It’s so crowded,” I murmured softly.

Kevan glanced at the rearview mirror, then looked straight ahead again. “It’s always like this every Saturday night.”

“It’s not just crowded,” I continued, my voice rising slightly. “It’s chaotic too. Look at that, cutting in recklessly.”

I grew more uneasy. Streets this packed always made me anxious. I took another breath, trying to calm myself, even though my heart kept beating faster.

I glanced at Kevan briefly. His strong hands held the steering wheel calmly, as if this traffic jam was no big deal. His face remained composed, without the slightest hint of irritation.

“You’re not annoyed?” I asked in surprise.

Kevan smiled faintly. “Why would I be?”

I shot him a small glare. “Why? The horns haven’t stopped blaring, and those people act like they have no patience at all.”

“I have a choice,” he replied lightly. “Get angry, or stay focused on driving safely.”

I fell silent for a moment. But when another motorcycle recklessly cut in from the left, my emotions immediately flared.

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed irritably. “They’ll only realize the consequences when an accident happens.”

Kevan did not respond right away. A few seconds later, he spoke, his voice still calm. “Getting angry on the road won’t bring anything good.”

I turned toward him. “What do you mean?”

“If we let our emotions get the better of us,” he said while slowing down, “the risk isn’t only for us, but for others too. The road is already dangerous enough without adding anger to it.”

I frowned. “But they’re really going too far.”

Kevan gave a small nod. “That’s true. But responding with anger will only make things worse. Besides, people who get angry on the road just end up looking bad in everyone’s eyes.”

I fell silent.

For some reason, his words sounded simple, yet they struck deep. My chest felt warm. I suddenly felt foolish for having been so easily provoked earlier.

“So,” Kevan continued softly, “it’s better for us to reach our destination safely than to win an anger that doesn’t matter.”

I lowered my head for a moment, then smiled faintly. “It seems like you always know the right way to think.”

Kevan glanced at me briefly, the smile on his face widening just a little. “I just learned it from experience.”

“What kind of experience?” I asked curiously.

“An experience of almost regretting something,” he answered shortly.

Before I could ask further, his left hand lifted and gently ruffled my hair.

“Oh God,” I panicked inwardly. “Please protect my heart.”

“Why did you go quiet?” he asked, refocusing on the road.

I quickly shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just … all of a sudden.”

Kevan chuckled softly. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

I turned my face toward the window to hide my smile. “I’m not annoyed.”

“Yes,” he replied briefly. “Earlier.”

The car was filled with silence again, but this time it felt different. Not awkward, but calming.

I said nothing. Yet my thoughts grew noisier. Several times, without realizing it, I stole glances at him, making sure he was really there beside me.

I almost thought all of this was just a dream. Afraid that if I looked a second or third time, the figure next to me would disappear and be replaced by someone I absolutely did not want, like … Udin?

But no. Thankfully, Kevan was still there.

All of this was real. Not an illusion, nor a dream.

“Your grandmother is really funny, Frel,” Kevan said, starting the conversation again. “Lively. It seems like your house is always full of life.”

I chuckled softly. “Not just lively. Once Grandma is around, the atmosphere turns into an impromptu market. It’s never quiet.”

Kevan glanced at me briefly, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips. “That much?”

“Yes,” I answered quickly. “Even Mr. Mamat’s shop customers almost all know Grandma. Her popularity already beats celebrities.” I laughed softly, my voice light. “Sometimes I wonder myself.”

Kevan smiled along. “I like it.”

I turned to him. “Like what?”

“Your grandmother,” he answered without hesitation. “She’s cheerful and full of energy.” He paused for a moment, then added more softly, “Just like you, Frel.”

My heart beat faster.

I was speechless. I did not know whether to smile or cry after hearing his words. Kevan looked at me, as if waiting for my reaction, while I struggled to keep the stiff smile on my face.

“Thank you,” I finally said, even though my voice sounded faint.

Kevan gave a small nod. “I mean it.”

I did not respond. That feeling came back slowly, slipping in without permission. Not because of Grandma or Grandpa, but about someone who had unknowingly shaped me into who I am now. A feeling of hatred mixed with pain that I had only ever buried on my own.

Here. Right in my heart, which I had deliberately sealed shut.

Kevan seemed to notice the change in my demeanor. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

I immediately shook my head. “I’m fine.”

However, to avoid his gaze any longer, I turned my eyes toward the window. The streetlights and passing vehicles became my brief escape, anything as long as my thoughts did not get trapped on a single point that was too painful.

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