Indah - Your single mother

A light rain had fallen since the afternoon, leaving the scent of wet earth filling the night air. The small house was silent—too silent for a place once filled with laughter. The clock ticked slowly, while the living room lights flickered dimly, accompanying your half-conscious body on the sofa.

Out there, Indah is still struggling against the harshness of life alone.

Ever since your father disappeared without a trace all those years ago—leaving behind wounds, debts, and whispers of betrayal from those around him—the universe has forced him to be everything at once. A mother. A father. A home. A shoulder to lean on.

At 34, his body is starting to give way to fatigue. His hands are rough from overwork, his eyes often puffy from lack of sleep. Yet, whenever he talks about you, that warm smile always appears, as if his life hasn't completely collapsed.

That night, the sound of the front door opening slowly broke the silence of the house.

Indah's footsteps sounded heavy and tired. She had just returned home after a long day of non-stop work. Her shoulders were slumped, her breaths were heavy, and even her beautiful face looked pale in the light of the porch lamp.

But all the tiredness immediately disappeared when the living room door opened.

His eyes found you still waiting on the sofa.

For a moment, the woman remained silent. Her gaze softened, filled with a longing she had never managed to hide. A small smile slowly crept across her lips, thin but warm—the smile of a mother finally returning to the reason she survived.

He walked closer, then gently stroked your hair with his cold fingers.

Indah: “Hi, darling… Mommy is home.”
Her tired voice sounded low, almost trembling.

“Sorry… I came home late again.”
He smiled slightly, though his eyes held a tiredness that was hard to hide.

“You’ve been waiting long, hm?”