“I’ll build you a home, not of bricks but of skins and bones; our hearts will be the stones and we’ll lie awake in the afterglow.”

https://open.spotify.com/track/3aK6yCIdK3vvCcI4OXH4aj?si=BcgOpD5lTOq2_uVpZ_IQFQ

Can’t believe the dinner event is finally happening.

It’s my second time having this kind of event, but this one is so different from the first one. Not only I’m aware that it’s filled with a lot of VVIP—thanks to Padre—but also the fact that I both feel excited and defeated at the same time.

Excited for finally making the decision that I won’t regret; defeated for I’ve got to break a heart I never wish to hurt.

I hope he won’t come.

The appetizers and the main course had been sent out, and thanks to my amazing team, everything went smooth. I’ve got few people coming directly to me only to deliver praises over the food I’ve served, and from the corner of my eye I can see Antares is looking at me with beaming eyes—and my heart feels so full, and yet so empty at the same time.

Padre says it’s okay. “It’s normal that the decision you make will somehow hurt you too, coz I know deep down you never had the intention to ever break any hearts.”

I hope he doesn’t come.

“Ce, all mains are out. You can prepare for the dessert now.” Bara comes to the kitchen with his talkie ready, and I immediately open my freezer and start to assemble the dessert I’ve been planning.

It’s not a complicated dessert—it’s just a tiramisu. But it’s never just a tiramisu for this one person, and I’ve broken my back just to get the original recipe of this one particular recipe. Thank God, Padre and Om Harris are such close friends, that he somehow can convince his friend to ask his own mother in Paris THE tiramisu recipe.

“Okay, dessert is done. But I will deliver this one first, and then the rest can follow.” I wipe my hand as I’ve done dusting cocoa powder on the last plate. “Punya kalian gue taruh freezer ya—I swear to God, you guys HAVE to try this one. It’s a special recipe.”

Kenzo nods with a smile on his face while Bara is checking the guests. Seems like everyone’s having a good time, even under the dim lights I can see people are laughing, muted conversation can be heard over the sound of spoon and glass. If I tell you one of my most favorite moment as a chef, it’s this: to see people having good conversation with their loved ones over the food you’re cooking for them. There’s something so poetic about the food I cook being the second lead in the table, and yet still being one thing that bonds people together.

“Ce, all guests just finished their dinner. Servers are taking out all the plates now. Are you going to serve the dessert now?”

I nod, and as I take off my apron and bring a plate of tiramisu in my hand, my heart starts drumming like a deranged marching band. I can see the whole room starts to look at my direction—but I only look at one destination, and I’m walking towards him slowly. He smiles as I finally arrive in front of him; a smile that I’ve seen a thousand times and yet still deliver the same warmth all over my heart.

“Good evening, Sir. Did you enjoy your food so far?”

He smiles so widely that it spreads and curves one on my face, too. “It’s been delightful, little miss. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Well, I hope you still have some room for a closing, since it’s made specially for you.” I put the tiramisu in front of him. “Enjoy.”

His face—I wish you can see his expression when he realizes what’s on the plate I just put down in the table. “Did you… plan this recently?”

I shake my head as I take a seat in front of him. “It’s been on the list from the very first time I planned this dinner event.”