PARIS - SEVERAL DAYS LATER
The days passed in a deceptive rhythm. Elara found herself waking without the usual anxiety gnawing at her chest. She and Kael had fallen into a comfortable routine: breakfast together on the small balcony, walks along the Seine when the morning sun was still soft, visits to quiet art galleries where Kael enthusiastically explained each piece.
Her hand was always clasped in Kael's. At first only occasionally, then it became a habit. Their fingers interlaced easily, like two parts meant to fit together. As they walked through the Jardin du Luxembourg, Alisha running ahead chasing pigeons, Elara felt a peace so deep it almost made her feel guilty.
"The world feels simpler with you," Elara said to Kael one day as they sat on a wooden bench, watching Alisha play.
"Because we're not carrying a heavy past,"Kael replied, looking at her. "We only have the present."
And that "present" was beautiful. Too beautiful. Elara could almost forget the tense, brief calls from David, the bad news that still occasionally popped up on her social media feed, and the shadow of the courtroom trial in Jakarta. With Kael, she was a younger, lighter Elara, without the title of a businessman's wife, without the burden of scandal.
THE MESSAGE THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING
One Thursday afternoon, they were sitting at a cafe by the small Canal Saint-Martin. Alisha was engrossed in drawing in her sketchbook, while Kael was outlining plans for the weekend—maybe a trip to Versailles, or just a picnic at the Champ de Mars.
"We could bring—" Kael stopped as he saw Elara's expression change.
Elara's phone vibrated. A message from David. Not a short text like usual, but a long message.
"El, I can't call because I'm heading into an important meeting. But here's what you need to know: The evidence from Adrian Wijaya is very strong. Natasha's gynecologist has been investigated and admitted the pregnancy certificate was fake—he received a large sum of money. Natasha was also caught trying to flee with a fake passport. Tomorrow's trial will bring closure. I have requested the court to dismiss all charges and restore my name—and yours. I will fly to Paris tomorrow night. I want you and Alisha to come home with me. Our home is waiting. - David"
The peaceful world Elara had just built crumbled in an instant. Beautiful Paris suddenly felt like a stage backdrop about to be lowered. The hand holding Kael's became stiff.
"El? What's wrong?" Kael asked, his voice full of concern.
Elara looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "David... the problem is almost resolved. He's coming tomorrow. He wants us to go home."
Kael's face changed. Not angry, not disappointed—but with a sad, deep acceptance. He took a slow breath, gently releasing Elara's hand.
"So, this is it," he whispered.
CONVERSATION BY THE TUNNEL
They walked along the canal bank, leaving Alisha still engrossed in drawing under the watchful eye of Madame Claudette, who was enjoying ice cream on a bench not far away.
"You're going to leave," Kael said. It wasn't a question.
"David says everything is almost over.That his name—and mine—will be cleared."
"And is that what you want?To return to your old life?"
Elara stopped, looking at the greenish-gray canal water. "I don't know what I want anymore, Kael. I'm trapped between what I should want and what I feel."
Kael turned to face her, his back to the river. "For the past two weeks, you've smiled. You've laughed. You haven't woken up crying in the middle of the night. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"It means everything!"Elara exclaimed, tears finally falling. "With you, I feel... whole again. But—"
"But there's David.And Alisha. And eight years of marriage," Kael finished her sentence. He raised his hand, touching Elara's cheek. "I know, El. I've always known that one day this call would come. That you would have to choose between your past and... a possible future with me."
"Kael,I—"
"Listen,"he interrupted gently. "I won't ask you to choose me. Because if you do, it must come from your heart, not because you feel guilty towards me or because you're tired of David's drama."
Elara trembled. "What should I do?"
"You must listen to your heart's voice.Not the voice of obligation, not the voice of guilt, not the voice of 'should'." Kael took a deep breath. "But let me say this: my love for you is real. And it will remain real, whatever you decide. If you choose David, I will let you go with love. If you choose me... I will welcome you with all my soul."
BACK TO REALITY
That night, Elara's apartment felt very quiet. Alisha was fast asleep, and Elara sat on the balcony, watching the lights of Paris. In her hands were two photos: one of her wedding with David, where they both smiled happily, unaware of the coming storm. And one selfie with Kael and Alisha in front of the Eiffel Tower, where her face looked more relaxed than in any photo in the past year.
Her phone rang. David.
"El,did you get my message?" David's voice sounded tired but full of hope.
"Yes."
"I'm flying tomorrow night.I've prepared everything. The house is cleaned up, the garden is fixed, Alisha's room... I repainted it in the color she likes."
Elara closed her eyes. "David, I—"
"You don't have to decide now,"David said quickly, as if afraid to hear a refusal. "Come to the airport tomorrow night. See me. Hear the full story. Then decide. If you choose to stay in Paris... I will accept it."
The maturity in his words surprised Elara. This wasn't the forceful, controlling David. This was a changed David.
"Alright," she whispered. "I'll come to the airport."
After the call ended, Elara went into Alisha's room. Her little daughter was sleeping soundly, hugging her teddy bear. This little girl's life was about to change again—either returning to Jakarta with her father, or staying in Paris with her mother and Kael, who had become like a father to her.
She grabbed her phone, typed a message to Kael: "I will meet him at the airport tomorrow night. I haven't decided anything."
A reply came quickly:"I will wait for you, as always."
QUESTIONS WITHOUT ANSWERS
Madame Claudette approached Elara in the kitchen as she was making chamomile tea.
"A difficult choice,"Madame Claudette said without preamble.
"You know?"
"This apartment is small,and I have good ears." Madame Claudette smiled wryly. "Back then, when Jacques left me for my best friend, I thought my life was over. But look at me now—living peacefully, doing work I love, meeting people like you."
"So you're suggesting I choose Kael?Choose a more peaceful life?"
"No,"Madame Claudette said firmly. "I'm suggesting you choose what you won't regret on your deathbed. Not what's easiest. Not what's safest. But what's most right for Elara, not for David's wife or Kael's lover."
That night, Elara had a strange dream. She stood at a crossroads. One road led to a grand house in Jakarta with David waiting on the porch. The other led to a small artist's apartment in Paris with Kael painting on the balcony. And in the middle, Alisha stood alone, looking at her with questioning eyes.
"Choose, Mama," Alisha said in her dream. "But choose quickly. Because I can't stand here forever."
Elara woke with a racing heart. Dawn was breaking over Paris. Decision day had arrived.
On one side, there was David—with a past full of wounds but also full of love, with promises of healing and a life already built.
On the other side, there was Kael—with the peace he offered, with simple, unconditional love.
And in the middle, there was herself—a woman who had to rediscover who she was after everything fell apart.
Tomorrow night, at Charles de Gaulle Airport, a meeting would determine the direction of her life. But tonight, all she could do was gaze at the Paris sky and hope the answer would come like a shooting star—clear, bright, and undeniable.