Alter My Fate

Diana Galuh had lingered long in the company of Havi and his parents. Their conversation had flowed effortlessly, weaving a tapestry of warmth and kinship that was rare in her life. Yet, amidst this cherished intimacy, Diana came to a poignant realisation : love.

"Indeed, it is love. All of this, everything, because of love!"

Her heart swelled with conviction. There had been no error in her choice, no misstep in the feelings that now enveloped her. And her soul, which had quietly chosen Havi as its anchor, was resolute in its decision.

'This man is nothing short of remarkable. His intellect, which I've always admired, is matched only by the ease with which he engages with others. His connection to the community is evident in all that I've seen today.'

'Surely, if fate favours him, Havi will ascend to greatness. A man of such promise is destined for success. Oh, how I yearn for the day when I shall stand beside him, hand in hand, upon the bridal dais', she thought, her gaze still resting on Havi and his parents, who now seemed a picture of harmony. In her mind, images of a radiant future began to unfurl, each more beautiful than the last.

But suddenly, she shook herself from her reverie.

"No, this will not do! Diana, pull yourself together. You must deliver this sample of percha latex to Uncle Haryo without delay!"

Diana Galuh was suddenly roused from her reverie, as though the threads of her daydream had been gently but firmly untangled.

A duty still lay before her, a task entrusted by Havi himself, to deliver the sample of percha latex they had so swiftly harvested together.

Were one to view their exchange through a more formal lens, Havi's words might have carried the weight of a superior instructing a subordinate. Yet, it was merely a fanciful notion, a whim of the imagination.

"Havi, Uncle, Aunt," Diana began with a composed grace, "I must bid you farewell now. There are other matters that require my attention."

Her words, though spoken softly, rippled through the air like a stone cast into a tranquil pond, unsettling the serene joy that had filled the room.

In the depths of Mr. Ridho and Mrs. Saras's hearts, an unspoken wish lingered, a desire for Diana to remain a little longer. But they knew, as all hosts must, that the guest's time is their own to manage.

"Must you leave so soon, dear Diana?" asked Mrs. Saras, her voice tinged with disappointment that she could not entirely conceal.

"Indeed, child," Mr. Ridho added with a resigned sigh. "We've been so pleased to have you here. It's not often we are blessed with such delightful company."

Diana offered them a warm, appreciative smile. "Uncle, Aunt, I am deeply grateful for your hospitality and have cherished every moment here. But the day grows late, and school beckons in the morning. I must prepare my books and belongings for the lessons ahead," she explained with gentle resolve.

"Quite right," Havi interjected, aligning himself with her reasoning. "I've yet to prepare my own things for tomorrow as well."

And so, the inevitability of her departure was softened by understanding. Though her presence was to be brief, it had left a glow in the hearts of all, a warmth that would linger well beyond her parting.

Havi's parents, though reluctant, softened as the explanations unfolded. They accepted Diana's impending departure with quiet resignation, their reluctance tempered by understanding. Yet, the air was tinged with the bittersweet sadness of farewell.

"My dear Diana," Mrs. Saras began, her voice tender yet touched with longing, "do promise us you shall visit often. This house will always be open to you."

"I give you my word, Aunt," Diana replied earnestly. With that, she stepped forward and embraced Mrs. Saras, the gesture carrying the unspoken depth of gratitude and affection.

For a fleeting moment, the embrace felt like that of a daughter holding her mother, a bond forged not of blood but of the warmth shared in their brief time together.

"Havi," Mr. Ridho interjected, his voice carrying the authority of a father tempered by affection, "you will escort Diana to the village gate. No young lady should walk alone at this hour."

"Of course, Daddy. Come, Diana," Havi said with a bright, reassuring smile, gesturing for her to follow.

And so, with promises woven into their farewells and an embrace that lingered in spirit, Diana prepared to depart. As she stepped beyond the threshold of their home, the twilight seemed to hold its breath, casting a soft glow upon the scene.

Her heart, though heavy with the ache of parting, was also lightened by the warmth and kindness of a family that had made her feel, if only for a time, as though she truly belonged.

As instructed by his father, Havi dutifully escorted Diana to the village gate. The evening air was still, the gentle hum of crickets providing a serene backdrop to their quiet steps.

Upon reaching the gate, Diana turned back, her hand raised in a final wave to Mr. Ridho and Mrs. Saras, who stood in the doorway of their home.

From a distance, she saw their silhouettes return her wave, their gestures warm and full of affection.

"I like that girl, darling," Mrs. Saras admitted softly, her gaze lingering on Diana's retreating figure.

"As do I," Mr. Ridho replied, his tone thoughtful. "I can only hope that one day, Diana will become Havi's wife."

"But don't you think she might be from a well-off family?" Mrs. Saras ventured, a flicker of concern in her voice.

"It matters not, my love," Mr. Ridho said, shaking his head gently. "If Havi grows to be a man of stature and success, such things will hardly pose an obstacle."

With that, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, guiding her back into their home. The door closed softly behind them, leaving the night to cradle their quiet hopes and unspoken dreams.

Otherside, Havi and Diana walked side by side, their footsteps in rhythm as the path stretched further from his home. Their conversation flowed as naturally as the evening breeze, a quiet intimacy settling between them.

"Your parents are so kind, Havi," Diana remarked, her mind replaying the warmth she had felt in their company.

"Masha Allah… Tabarakallah," Havi replied, his voice filled with gratitude as he invoked the name of God.

Diana's heart skipped a beat. I never realised Havi was so devout, she thought, a newfound respect flickering within her.

"Indeed… Masya Allah," Diana echoed softly, her lips curving into a gentle smile.

"So, Diana," Havi began, his tone laced with curiosity and anticipation, "will you head straight to your uncle's company after this?"

"Yes, I'll go directly to Uncle Haryo's factory to deliver the sample," Diana replied, her smile brightening as she gestured to the small parcel she carried.

"That's good to hear," Havi said, a note of relief colouring his words.

She glanced at him, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. "It seems you're eager to dive into business, aren't you, young master?"

Havi could only manage a sheepish grin at her teasing.

'This is just the first step, like a launchpad',

He thought to himself, his heart brimming with determination. Forgive me for involving you in this, Diana. But it's all I can do for now to begin this journey.

Without warning, Havi reached out and tousled Diana's hair, his smile widening at her startled expression.

"Ugh! How naughty of you, young master!" Diana exclaimed, feigning indignation as she retaliated with a sharp flick to his nose.

"Ow! So, I'm the naughty one, am I?" Havi shot back, laughing as Diana broke into a run, her laughter ringing out like a melody in the evening air.

Without hesitation, he chased after her, their playful antics turning the quiet path into a lively scene. Their carefree laughter echoed through the trees, a testament to the joy of youth and the tender bond forming between them.

By the time they reached the village gate, both were breathless, their faces flushed with exertion and delight.

The moment felt suspended, as though the world had paused to admire their shared happiness. In that fleeting instant, the worries of the day seemed far away, leaving only the promise of what was yet to come.

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The Boardroom of Nujaya Ltd.

The atmosphere in the boardroom was stifling, laden with an almost tangible sense of despair. Faces around the long mahogany table were drawn, shadows of fatigue and anxiety etched deep into each brow.

"Mr. Haryo," began Ferry, one of the senior managers, his voice trembling with a mixture of urgency and dread, "if we fail to secure a dependable supplier soon, it's inevitable, our company will collapse."

Michael, seated across from him, leaned forward, his tone equally dire. "He's right, sir. And with Hextex Industries undercutting the market with their aggressive discounts, even our most loyal clients are beginning to waver. If this continues, we'll lose them all."

Haryo Wibowo, the founder and patriarch of Nujaya Ltd., sat silently at the head of the table. His presence, once commanding and reassuring, now seemed diminished, as though the burdens of the past months had aged him prematurely.

His hand rested heavily on the polished surface, fingers drumming absentmindedly as he absorbed their words. Finally, he exhaled a slow, weary sigh.

"My friends," he said, his voice low but steady, "perhaps this is where our journey ends. I have no answers left. All I can do now is thank you, for your dedication, for your hard work. We built something remarkable together, and for that, I will always be grateful."

The room fell into a profound silence, his words settling over them like a shroud. Each man stared down at the table, unwilling or unable to meet Haryo's gaze.

But then, as though clutching at the final straws of hope, Haryo straightened slightly. "There may be one last option," he said, his voice faltering but resolute.

Every head lifted, eyes alight with a flicker of anticipation.

"I've received an offer," Haryo continued. "Yunus Adirjo of Hextex has proposed two alternatives. The first is an outright acquisition. He would take 90% of Nujaya's shares, leaving us with a mere 10%. The second is a merger, with Nujaya becoming a subsidiary of Hextex."

A ripple of unease passed through the room as his words settled. The implications were clear, either choice meant the end of Nujaya's independence. Yet, in the face of ruin, even these bitter options carried a sliver of hope.

Just as murmurs of reluctant agreement began to rise, a sharp, clear voice cut through the air, startling everyone into silence.

"I disagree!"

All eyes turned towards the door, where a young woman stood, her expression fierce, her stance defiant. Her voice rang out with such authority that it seemed to reverberate off the walls, silencing every other thought in the room.

Haryo's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he simply stared at her. Then his expression darkened, frustration flashing across his face.

'Why is she here? Of all times, why now?', he thought, irritation mingling with disbelief. Ah, my wife has indulged her far too much!

Yet even as these thoughts raced through his mind, the woman stepped further into the room, her eyes blazing with determination. Whatever had brought her here, it was clear she intended to be heard.

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