Cantik: Review Ternyata Istriku

He had zoomed in on the background.

"Just read it, Bay," he said, sliding his phone across the table. "The review. From the culinary blogger. Look at the picture."

A flush crept up her neck. She looked down at her hands. "Oh. That. Kirana, my old college friend, invited me. I didn't think… I mean, you were working late, so I…"

In the photo, Kirana was mid-laugh, holding up a spoonful of gulai. But behind her, slightly out of focus, was a woman at a corner table. She was leaning forward, whispering something to a small child. The woman had her hair down—long, black, and wavy, cascading over the shoulders of a simple cream linen dress. She wasn't wearing glasses. Her face was tilted in profile, and the soft, rainy light from a window caught the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, the small, genuine smile as she listened to the child.

"What?"