My One and Only

Leaning against the thin railing that made up the balcony of the magnificent penthouse, a lean, young man stared across the vast night sky. His eyes betrayed no emotion whatsoever. His thoughts wandered aimlessly, oblivious to the noisy surrounding.

“Rizal!”

He was quickly roused as he heard his name being called out by the now so very familiar voice. Usually he would frown at the thought of someone disturbing his train of thought, but at that particular moment, he didn’t mind. He stood his ground as his eyes focused on the woman who was making her way across the throng of human beings that had gathered in the living room. She grasped his hands and stood beside him.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked.

“No. Not just yet,” Rizal stared at the face that was in front of him. Syafika Liza. Fika for short. The only child of Tan Sri Abdul Latiff, the wealthiest man in the country. To Rizal, the information wasn’t of importance. What was, was the fact that beside him stood the only woman that had ever stolen his heart. Gone were his flamboyant days and along with it his ‘playboy’ tag. For him, she was the epitome of beauty and grace. And within her perfect figure, was a child’s heart, full of innocence and gentleness.

That was more than he could say for himself, born Rizal Malik, the younger of two sons. His brother’s death nine years ago, made him the only son and heir. His father, Rahman Mahmud, was a successful businessman. Since birth, Rizal was surrounded by wealth, and grew up to be a rich, spoilt brat. He flaunted his father’s fortune and considered his bank account a bottomless well full of money. But all that took place before he knew the woman who stood beside him. Fika had transformed him from a spoilt, irresponsible teenager into a smart varsity student, now in his final year at one of the top university in Britain. He owed her more than just plain, simple gratitude; he owed her his love.

The turning point in his life took place six years ago, upon meeting Fika. Today, he is to celebrate the 23rd birthday of the woman he loves so much.

“Come on. We can’t wait any longer. Ayah’s waiting inside,” said Fika, breaking the momentary silence between them. Not waiting for an answer, she took Rizal’s hand and led him to the living room, which by then, had taken on a less lively atmosphere. As they approached the door leading to the living room, Rizal could hear the deep, booming voice of her Fika’s father, Tan Sri Abdul Latiff.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, I would like to invite the lady whom I have known since she was a wee, bonnie lass and the reason for which we are all here tonight; my daughter, Syafika Liza!”

Rizal watched in silence, as Fika departed from his side to join her father on the podium. And as guests greeted her with a rapturous welcome, deep down inside, he felt proud.

*********

“No.”

“What?!” exclaimed Rizal.

Silence.

It took Rizal a week to get his plan into motion. Candlelight dinner, flowers, presents, even down to hiring the tuxedo he was wearing. He had planned everything to the smallest detail. To him, tonight should have been the most memorable night in his life. The one thing that he did not expect was his rejection from Fika. The two-letter word that she had uttered a while ago, hung in the air like a hangman’s rope.

Maybe I didn’t love you,
Quite as much as I should,
Maybe I didn’t treat you,
Quite as well as I should have,
If I made you feel second best,
Girl, I’m sorry I was blind…

As the lyrics of Elvis’ evergreen song filled the air, Rizal wondered in the circumstances had been true with him.

“You’ve got to understand Rizal. Don’t ask me anything. I have no answers,” explained Fika. Rizal kept silent.“I’m just not ready… yet,” She reached across the table.

“I’ve got to go.” replied Rizal, avoiding Fika’s outstretched hand.“Rizal... wait... I...,”

And without saying anything further, Rizal left the table. Fika watched silently, uttering no word of objection, nor agreement. Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly, teardrops flowed down her smooth, flawless skin.

As he walked along the quayside, Rizal wondered if he had done the right thing by leaving Fika alone in the restaurant. He was disappointed with the way she reacted. He had allowed his emotions to get the better of him. Pulling aside his jacket, he sat on the planks that made up the dock and rested his tired body on an empty crate. Slowly his eyelids closed shut, slumber took him away from his problems… for the moment, that is.

****************

Searching his pockets for the keys to his apartment, Rizal muttered curses to himself. He awoke to find himself still at the dock, but this time amidst the shout of the dock workers and shrills emitted by foghorns. It was nearly noon, he had decided to wash up and change, before going to see Fika and apologize for his behaviour the night before. Finding the key, he quickly unlocked the door. As he stepped inside his apartment, he noticed an envelope lying on the door mat. He picked it up and instantly recognized Fika’s writing. Without hesitation, he quickly tore it open. His eyes fell on each word quickly, yet knowingly.

Sayang,

By the time you read this letter, I will either be at the airport or half-way across the Pacific Ocean. I am joining Ayah in San Fransisco for two weeks. I tried to tell you this yesterday, but I couldn’t. If you get back in time, I would love to see you before I go. My flight is BA 667. I will be leaving at 11 a.m...

Rizal’s eyes strayed to the clock across the room. 11.37. He cursed himself and continued in despair…

What happened last night was beyond my comprehension. Words cannot…

As he read the last line, his heart paused but only for a while. For a moment bewilderment etched his face. But soon, confusion turned to understanding and yet again, to signs of ecstasy. His eyes scanned, while his lips read aloud the last two lines in the letter, again and again, and again.

Rizal was up and about early in the morning. Fika’s letter had been a source of new found energy, that had awakened and rejuvenated him. The man he was two nights ago, remained in memory. Coffee for Rizal is a daily indulgence in order to start the morning on a bright note. After having brewed his favourite coffee mix, he draped himself with a t-shirt over his boxer, went down to get his newspaper from the doorman. As he strolled down the corridor; he whistled a strange yet familiar tune to himself.

“Morning Tuan. Come to get your paper?” asked Pak Mat, the frail guard. “Yes Pak Mat. And how are you today?” inquired Rizal, as he took his morning newspaper and slowly read the front page. But before Pak Mat could reply, Rizal’s face turned white and without further notice, he ran back to his apartment. As he ran, he could hear the old man calling his name, but he ignored it. Pak Mat was surprised to see Rizal running back to his apartment. It isn’t like him to do such things, he said to himself. While trying to figure out an answer, his eyes fell upon the headline of the morning newspaper.

FLIGHT BA 667 CRASHED AT KWAI TAK AIRPORT : NO SURVIVORS

Pak Mat shook his head in disbelief. What a catastrophe, he thought.

Reaching his humble abode, Rizal ran to his desk and took out Fika’s letter. As tears flowed across his cheeks, Rizal unfolded the letter quickly; yet carefully enough not to ruin it. Sitting in his favourite chair, his bloodshot eyes focused on the last two lines…

Words cannot describe my feelings for you, nor it is easy for me to show and share that feeling with you. After thinking a while, I have realized that the appropriate answer to your proposal would be yes.