Ardi stood in front of the grave, wearing a black suit that felt uncomfortable. The scorching afternoon heat touched his head, but he didn't move. The tombstone in front of him was engraved with a name: Bambang Sutrisno 1950-2024. His father.
Three days ago, his father could still talk. But yesterday morning, father was gone forever.
"Ardi... don't cry here," whispered his mother… well, his stepmother. The woman who married his father when Ardi was already 20 years old. She held Ardi's arm, but Ardi felt distant. The stepmother's embrace felt strange, like a hug from a stranger trying to become family.
Ardi didn't cry. His eyes were dry as stone.
In front of the grave, there were many people. His father's business colleagues, his friends, distant relatives who rarely appeared. Everyone whispered, sharing stories about Bambang Sutrisno who was "kind-hearted" and "hardworking". But Ardi didn't know that person. The person Ardi knew was the father who was always busy, who came home late at night, who was more familiar with his phone than with his own son.
Beside Ardi stood his brother… well, not a real brother. This was a half-brother from his father's marriage to his first wife. His name was Dion. Dion was 32 years old, two years younger than Ardi. But they were never close. Dion had the opportunity to do business with their father before, while Ardi was taught to be independent from an early age. His father said: "Ardi, don't depend on me. Build your own business." And Ardi obeyed. He built PT Utama Sejahtera from scratch, and now it was a big company in the property development field.
But now? Everything felt empty.
The family lawyer, Mr. Hendra, approached. He was a middle-aged man with an expensive suit and perfect hair. In his hands, there was a thick brown envelope. The envelope looked heavy, not just physically, but also from the aura it radiated.
"Ardi, we need to talk about your father's will," said Mr. Hendra in a low voice. "There are several important things we need to discuss."
Ardi nodded. He knew this day would come. The day when his father's last letter would be opened.
At that very moment, Ardi felt cold. As cold as an empty chest.
They met in Mr. Hendra's office on the 15th floor of a skyscraper. The office was large, with a magnificent view of the city from the glass windows. But Ardi didn't care about the view. He focused on the table in front of him, where the brown envelope was now open, and several documents were spread neatly.
Ardi sat in a comfortable chair. His stepmother and Dion were also here. They sat across from each other, creating an atmosphere that was tense like a courtroom.
"Okay," said Mr. Hendra, adjusting his glasses. "I will read the will of Bambang Sutrisno. Please listen carefully."
He began reading in a monotone voice, like reading a weather report. Assets were mentioned one by one: A house in Pondok Indah worth 8 billion rupiah. Cars in the garage. Shares. Bank accounts. Land in various places.
Everything was for Ardi and Dion, divided equally. Or... that's what Ardi thought.
But then, Mr. Hendra read a sentence that made Ardi stop listening properly and start really focusing:
"For Ardi Sutrisno, my son who is already independent and successful in business: You will receive 50% of all the assets I have, however with one important condition. This condition must be fulfilled within a period of 6 months from the date of my death, or all of that asset will be donated to the Indonesian Orphanage Social Institute."
Ardi felt his ears ringing. "What condition?" he asked, his voice sounding strange to himself.
Mr. Hendra adjusted his position and read clearly:
"The condition is: Ardi Sutrisno must get married. A marriage that is legal according to Indonesian law, registered at the Civil Registration Office. Within 6 months, you must already be married and have an official marriage certificate. If not, then all assets will be transferred to charity."
The room was silent. Quiet. Like the sky before a storm.
Ardi felt like he was being deceived from another realm. Married? Within 6 months? For what? He wasn't in any relationship at all. Love was not a priority for Ardi Sutrisno. His priority was work, business, and success. He had been in relationships before, but all of them ended because "Ardi couldn't give time" or "Ardi only cares about business".
And maybe that was true. Maybe Ardi was really like that. Like his father.
"This is not fair," said Dion, his voice echoing. "Why does Ardi get a condition like this? I don't get a condition?"
Mr. Hendra read again: "For Dion Sutrisno, my son from my first marriage: You will receive 30% of all assets, without any conditions. Because you are already married, you already have a wife and two children. You already know what responsibility is."
Dion stood up from his chair. His eyes burned. "This is favoritism! Ardi is the son of the last wife, so that's why father gives him a condition like this? Father is not fair!"
But Ardi's stepmother, who was also shocked, touched Dion's arm. "Sit down, Dion. Getting angry here won't help."
Dion sat back down, but his lips tightened.
Ardi was still silent. Completely silent. In his head, there was only one sentence that kept repeating: "Get married within 6 months or lose everything."
Mr. Hendra continued reading, as if what had just happened was a normal thing. There were several other things in the will: a personal message for Ardi, a sealed letter that "can only be opened if Ardi is already married", and instructions about the company.
The company. Ah, yes. PT Utama Sejahtera. The office where he works. The business that Ardi built from scratch with his own sweat.
"For the management of PT Utama Sejahtera," continued Mr. Hendra reading, "Bambang leaves some shares that he owns, shares that will be given to Ardi, but also with the same condition: legal marriage within 6 months. If not, those shares will be sold and the proceeds will be donated."
So it wasn't just personal assets. But also Ardi's own business was threatened?
Ardi felt the world spinning. His father died in an unusual way. Not with a warm hug or a message of affection. But with a condition. With an ultimatum. With control that still felt even though his father was gone.
"This... this is crazy," muttered Ardi.
Mr. Hendra looked at Ardi, with a slightly empathetic gaze. "Ardi, I know this is sudden. But this is your father's will. Do you want to hear his personal letter? He wrote a letter for you."
Ardi nodded weakly. Mr. Hendra pulled out a white envelope, with familiar handwriting: "For Ardi."
That handwriting was his father's.
Ardi took the envelope with slightly trembling hands. Inside there were several pages written in blue ink. His father's handwriting that he had known since childhood—neat, structured, serious.
He began reading silently:
"Ardi, my son,
If you are reading this, it means I am already gone. Maybe I didn't have time to talk much to you before I left. I didn't know how to say this when I was still alive.
I saw you grow into a successful man. Your business is good. Your reputation is good. But Ardi... I saw you alone. You are like me back then focused on business, forgetting the happiness that should come from family.
I don't want you to be like me. I don't want you to live alone until you're old. That's why I made this condition. I know it's harsh. I know it's not fair. But this is the only way I can push you to find happiness.
Find someone you can love, Ardi. Someone who can make your life full of color. Then, pray that person can also love you.
If you succeed in getting married within 6 months, you won't just get assets. You will get the key to my last letter. In there, there is a story that might make you understand why father is serious about this.
I hope you are happy, Ardi. That is what father wants most.
Bambang Sutrisno"
Ardi left Mr. Hendra's office with a burning head, but empty eyes.
He sat in his Mercedes a luxurious car that actually didn't make him happy. He held his father's letter, reading it over and over again, until the writing became blurry because tears accidentally fell from his eyes.
Married. Within 6 months. For what? For whom?
Ardi didn't know the answer. What he knew was, now he had 6 months to find a wife. Or lose everything.
He took out his phone, opened the calendar. Six months from now. October 17, 2024.
Ardi had to get married before that date.
Or his life would end.