At 29, Satria led a modest life in a simple rented house. He lived in the same village as his in-laws and his wife's family. Having married the beautiful and unassuming Dinda Kusama two years prior, their life was humble and grounded. Dinda, who had once worked as a cashier at a mini-market, decided to quit her job after getting married.

"You fool! You should have married Alfin. He has a high-ranking office job, and here you are married to a poor man who sells cendol on the streets!" Rudi, Dinda's eldest brother, berated her.

The youngest sibling with three elder ones, Dinda had Rudi, Reno, and her sister Rena, all of whom had opposed her relationship with Satria from the start. However, she defended her love for Satria, leading to her siblings' eventual dismay when she accepted Satria's proposal. Only her father, Sir Karim, supported their union, unlike her mother, Ms.Rahayu.

"Look at your life now, Dinda. You lack so much, even God hasn't blessed you with a child because you're poor and can't afford one," Rena remarked bitterly.

"Match, provision, and death are God's secrets, sister. Don't associate not having children with our poverty. It's my household with Mr.Satria, why are you all fussing? In two years of marriage, I've never asked for your help once. Yet despite your good jobs and wealth, you always need money and bother Mom and Dad," Dinda replied defiantly.

She was tired of being humiliated and belittled by her siblings, with her husband as their frequent target.

"Enough, Din, don't make a scene. The neighbors might hear," Satria said, comforting his wife with a gentle caress.

Satria was accustomed to this treatment, with nothing but contempt from his in-laws, except his kind father-in-law.

"But, sir, they've gone too far," Dinda said softly, puzzled why her husband never fought back against his brothers-in-law.

"It's alright, I may be poor, but God willing, I can still make you happy," assured Satria gently.

It was Satria's patience and tenderness that deepened Dinda's love for him.

"Ha! Proud of being a mere cendol seller? How can you satisfy my daughter? You barely have enough," scoffed Ms.Rahayu disdainfully.

"Let's not talk like that. Satria is our son-in-law, and we should pray for his success. If he prospers, our daughter will benefit too," counseled Sir Karim to his wife.

However, Rahayu's siblings disliked their father's words, ashamed to have an in-law like Satria, never acknowledging him and ignoring him on the streets.

"Sir always favors Satria and Dinda. We just want Dinda to be happy and have a comfortable life. Can't you see our spouses have respectable jobs, especially Rena's husband?" Reno protested.

Every Saturday night, Sir Karim's children and their spouses gathered at his house for dinner, which always fell on Mbok Yem and Dinda to prepare as the sisters-in-law were uninterested in helping.

"Let's go home, Mr.Rudi, I'm tired of this unnecessary argument," said Sinta, weary Rudi's wife.

"Indeed, I'm sleepy too," echoed Sarah, Reno's wife.

Following the departure of her siblings and their spouses, Dinda and Satria stayed quiet in the living room, with Ms.Rahayu casting scornful glances at them.

"After clearing these teacups, you can go. You've had a good meal here, after all," directed Ms.Rahayu sharply before retiring to her room.

Dinda silently wept inside, not wishing to cry in front of her father, and she obediently tended to the tasks her mother assigned.

"Leave it, Din. Let Mbok Yem handle it; we're all tired, and you've prepared everything since the afternoon. Go home and rest, tomorrow you must help your husband with his stall," said Sir Karim kindly.

"But, Sir..." Dinda's protest was cut short as Sir Karim interjected.

"It's alright. If your mother is upset, I'll handle it," he assured her.

Dinda nodded, respecting her father's wishes, and with heartfelt gratitude, she and Satria took their leave, their home a mere 100 meters, or about five houses, away.

**********

"Off to sell, Din. Take care at home, and tell me if you go out," Satria said before leaving for his rounds.

Dinda flashed a sweet smile, as today she would assist at the village chief's wife's celebration for her child's graduation.

"Yes, Sir, I'll just be at Ibu RT's, nowhere else," laughed Dinda.

"Still, you should tell me," Satria responded playfully, pinching Dinda's cheek affectionately.

Their love and romance never faltered despite financial constraints. Satria was naturally kind, patient, and loving. In two years of marriage, he never once raised his voice at Dinda.

"Assalamualaikum," he called out as he left.

"Waalaikumsalam. Take care, Sir. May the sales be sweet today," Dinda wished hopefully.

"Aamiin," Satria responded as he mentally prepared, hoping for a successful day’s trade.

Satria usually stationed his cart outside a nearby school. Once school ended, he'd roam until four in the afternoon before heading back, regardless of unsold stock.

"Ehh... Mr.Satri, I'll take 25 cendols, just use the cups," a teacher requested.

"Alhamdulillah, is this kind of cup alright, Ms?" Satria inquired, showing a typical plastic cup.

"Yes, that's fine, Sir. It has a lid, right?" she verified.

"It does, but it's not heat-sealed," Satria admitted.

"That's no issue, just please make sure it's covered. How much do I owe you?" she asked kindly.

Calculating the total, Satria sold each at 5,000 rupiah but offered discounted rates for the school children.

"It's 125,000 rupiah in total," he responded respectfully.

"Here's the money, and could you bring them inside when ready? We have a teachers' meeting soon," she said graciously.

"Of course, Bu. Thank you for boosting my sales," Satria expressed his gratitude as the teacher nodded and re-entered the school grounds.

Today Satria returned home early because his wares sold out. Seeing her husband come back early made Dinda curious, as it was unusual for Satria to be back early. She wondered if her husband was sick and so had decided to come home.

"Why are you already home? Are you all right?" Dinda asked, concerned about Satria.

Instead of answering his wife's question, Satria fell silent. He was just amazed at his wife's antics.

"Why are you silent?" Dinda asked.

"There's nothing wrong, Din. Actually, I'm surprised why you're so worried. I came home early because there was a teachers' meeting at the school, and they bought a lot of cendol in cups—25, in fact—so my goods sold quickly, and I was able to return sooner," Satria said while tidying up his vending equipment.

"Oh, is that so. Thank goodness," Dinda exclaimed and then joined in taking the empty jars to the kitchen to be washed and reused tomorrow. Dinda paid great attention to the cleanliness of the vending equipment her husband used.

"Here's what I earned today, Din," Satria said while handing over the day's earnings to Anisa.

Every day, Satria would hand over the money he made from his sales to Dinda. He never kept a penny for himself; he entrusted all his earnings to Dinda. With a charming smile, Dinda gratefully accepted the money her husband offered.

"Alhamdulillah, we made 200,000 today. I'll save 50,000, and the rest we can spend on supplies for the vending and vegetables for tomorrow," Dinda said, full of gratitude.

Dinda would go to the market early in the morning, around 5 a.m. after the dawn prayer. She reluctantly shopped every day because she didn't have a fridge to store the ingredients for making cendol. She bought both the cendol and grass jelly daily. Dinda was saving money to buy a fridge so that she could also make her own ice.

"What do you think about making our cendol, Mas? We just need to get the ingredients. Making cendol is easy and quick; it doesn't take long. We'll continue to buy the grass jelly and 'roti jon' at the market."

"Won't you get tired, Din? I don't want you to become tired and then ill. It's fine; let's just buy for now. If we can eventually get a fridge, we can shop every two days, and the grass jelly and cendol can last longer than three days if stored there," Satria gently declined Dinda's idea.

"Alright, Mas. Would you like to eat or bathe first? It's nearly prayer time," Dinda said.

"I'll just rest for now, Din. I ate the lunch you packed me earlier. Surely I won't eat again at this time. Wake me when the asr prayer call sounds," Satria said.

"Oh, right, it's not even 3 p.m. Why am I offering you food and a bath? Hehe... I forgot, Mas, since you're usually home after asr. Well, rest first, then, and I will wake you when it's time for the asr prayer," Dinda said.

Satria nodded and then went inside the room, while Dinda got busy washing the tools her husband had used for vending. She was very thankful because today her husband had given her 200,000, a considerable sum. Usually, Satria brought home less than 100,000. And that was still before deducting the capital for buying ingredients and vegetables.

In his room, Satria couldn't close his eyes; he thought about how hard the life they had been leading for five years was. Satria had already faced the harsh realities of life for three years before marrying Dinda, living away from the bustle of the city.

"In three months, that time will be up, and I have to return to my usual life. But what about Dinda? Will she be angry when she finds out who I really am?" Satria asked himself.

"Mas, why haven't you slept? You said you'd rest. I assumed you had fallen asleep," Dinda exclaimed while entering the room with clothing she had just taken from the clothesline.

"Yes, Din. I was just daydreaming about what it would be like if suddenly we had a lot of money. Living in a luxurious house and owning fancy cars, happily living together until we're old," Satria said, revealing a bit of his true self.

"Amen. But let's keep our daydreams sensible, Mas. If they're too lofty, the fall will hurt, and I'll be the one laughing. I'm content with this simple life, Mas. Yet, if Allah wishes to bless us with more, I wouldn't say no," Dinda said as she folded the laundry and placed it in the clothes basket.

Dinda always folded the clothes right after taking them from the clothesline to prevent them from getting wrinkled. She rarely ironed, to save on electricity expenses, only pressing clothes for going out or attending events.

"Yes, Din. No one knows what fate may bring," Satria responded, gazing up at the ceiling.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Dinda quickly went to see who it was. It turned out to be Gibran and Tiara, children of her sister Rena. They often came over to play and occasionally begged for a meal.

"Auntie, I'm hungry," said five-year-old Gibran with a sad face. Seven-year-old Tiara looked down, perhaps embarrassed for asking for food so frequently from Dinda. They often received meals at Dinda's house, unlike those from Rudi and Reno, whose wives seldom cooked and whose homes were also quite distant. Rena still lived in the same area as Dinda, about 200 meters from Dinda's house.

"Come in, but all I've cooked is stir-fried water spinach and fried tempeh. Why don't you try asking at Grandma's house? Surely there would be fish or chicken there," Dinda inquired, wanting to know why the two nephews didn't ask for food from their grandmother's place.

"We did go to Grandma's, but she hadn't cooked yet, Auntie, and she told us to ask you. There's no food at home because Mommy went out, and Daddy's still at work," Tiara said honestly. The seven-year-old never lied to Dinda.

Dinda heaved a long sigh. She was all too familiar with her older sister's habits: always out with her pretentious socialite friends, wasting money without a thought for her children.

"Oh, is Tiara and Gibran here?" Satria feigned ignorance even though he had overheard the entire conversation between Dinda and the two children.

"Uncle Satria, you're home?" asked Gibran, the five-year-old who still couldn't pronounce 'r' clearly.

"Yes, Uncle Satria finished early. You want a meal, right? Go ahead and take it from the kitchen table, remember not to fight over it and say your prayers before eating," Satria said kindly.

"Yes, uncle, thank you," Tiara and Gibran replied together.

They scurried to the kitchen to fetch their meal. Whatever Dinda prepared, they would eat ravenously. Whenever Tiara and Gibran visited, Satria and Dinda always took the opportunity to teach them etiquette and good manners, effectively guiding their niece and nephew to grow up polite and well-mannered.

"Hi... What in the world have you been feeding my children?" Rena shouted, irritation clear in her voice.

Amidst enjoying their meal, Gibran and Tiara, along with Dinda and Satria, were taken aback when Rena burst into the kitchen without a greeting, incensed that her children were being fed nothing but water spinach and fried tempeh.

"Rena, could you at least greet people before storming into their house? Bursting in and shouting is quite rude," Dinda exclaimed, frustrated by the sudden confrontation which thankfully hadn't caused anyone to choke.

"You think you're so high and mighty!" Rena scoffed, pointing at her own children who cowered in fear. "Why are you feeding my kids this trash? This isn't what they're used to eating!"

Satria and Dinda were bewildered by their sister's arrogance and harshness in referring to their meal as 'trash'. After all, Rena’s children were regulars at their table every day.

"If you prefer that your children eat fried chicken or beef rendang, then by all means, take them home with you and give them 'proper' meals. There's no need to come here and complain when you can't even look after your own kids. I'm the one feeding them because they're starving. They eat here nearly every day, and you, as their mother, neglect your responsibilities; always out and about instead of cooking for your children," Dinda said angrily.

Satria gently caressed Dinda’s arm, attempting to calm her rising anger. Rena responded with a huff and a sneer.

"Tiara, Gibran... I'm sorry, darlings, but from tomorrow, you should stop eating here if all I have is 'trash' food. You’d better ask your mom for nicer, nutritious meals," said Dinda sweetly.

"But if we don't eat here, where will we eat, auntie? There's no food at home and we're hungry. We like your food; my brother and I enjoy your cooking," said Tiara, a first-grade student with a sorrowful expression.

"Tiara, Gibran, come home!" Rena shouted, clearly upset.

Without arguing, Tiara and Gibran stood up and left the house following their mother. They were still hungry, their meal unfinished, but they didn't dare to talk back. They departed with their heads hanging low and hearts heavy.

"If she weren't my sister, I’d give her a piece of my mind," muttered Dinda, still angry.

"Let's not let our emotions take over. Let's just continue with our meal," Satria said gently.

Dinda nodded slowly, sat back down, and tried to finish her meal, but her appetite had vanished. However, wasting food would be even worse.

After eating, Dinda cleaned up the meal and washed the dishes. Meanwhile, Satria had left to attend a neighborhood meeting at Mr. RT’s house.

*How long must my sisters treat us like this? They belittle me and Satria\, and even my own mother doesn't like him. I worry that Satria will feel pressured and alienated\, but thankfully he's patient and not easily offended\,* Dinda mused silently to herself.

**********

Rena arrived at her parent's home, eager to discuss Dinda and Satria. Her father wasn't home, as he was attending the neighborhood meeting as well.

"Do you also want to separate them?" inquired Rena curiously.

"Yes, you’re right. I don’t want to see Anisa suffering with Satria. What can we expect from a man whose only job is selling cendol? I want to matchmake Dinda with Mr. Sukar’s son, who owns a large electronics store and has a steady job with a good salary," expressed Mrs. Rahayu with conviction.

"Tono? The Tono who works at STR GROUP?" Rena asked, making sure her curiosity was addressed.

Mrs. Rahayu nodded confidently with a smile, affirming her belief that Dinda marrying Tono, a permanent employee with a decent salary, would be ideal.

A mother should be an example to her children, a source of comfort and a confidant — offering support, encouragement, and wise counsel. Instead, she was conspiring to end her daughter’s marriage in favour of a union with another man.

"But is Dinda willing, Mom? She seems deeply in love with Satria," Rena said, doubting her mother's plan.

"She must be willing; if not, we'll have to make it happen. Marrying Tono would bring us pride. Plus, he works in the same company as Rudy and Reno," Mrs. Rahayu replied.

Rena nodded, a sly smile forming. She agreed with Mrs. Rahayu, believing that Dinda’s marriage to Tono would enhance their family’s status.

"Mom, we need to arrange things so Dinda and Satria split up sooner rather than later. I'm fed up with having a brother-in-law like him: poor yet so prideful. It's a pity to see Dinda living this way," Rena added.

"You think I don't feel sorry for your sister? That’s why I'm finding her a new match. Let’s not mention this to your father, though. He'd be furious if he found out," Mrs. Rahayu suggested with a gleeful smile.

Just then, Rena complained about the 'trash' food that Dinda and Satria gave her children.

"Trash? What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Rahayu, confused.

"Rena's children were fed kangkung and tempeh, isn't that essentially garbage food?" Rena was indignant.

"If you took the time to cook, they wouldn't have to eat such things. Nonetheless, it's good that Dinda chooses to feed them. Before you leave the house next time, prepare meals for them. If Beni knew you're neglecting them, he’d be furious," Mrs. Rahayu advised.

"Why are you defending them? You should be outraged that they're feeding your grandchildren unsuitable food. And Beni won't find out; he comes home just once a week," Rena said confidently.

Mrs. Rahayu sighed deeply, realizing that advising Rena was like talking to a stone or a living statue.

"Just go home and take your children with you. It's late, and I need to rest. Keep our matchmaking plan from your father," Mrs. Rahayu instructed.

Rena nodded, giving a thumbs-up, and took her children back to her own home, not far from her parents' place.