12 FORMER

PART 11 ARM WOUND

I opened the fence and closed it again, walking cheerfully while whistling happily. Oops! I forgot I was pregnant. Suck my stomach dear, mumble softly, “Sorry yes dear.” Walk down, look at the stomach.

Without me noticing that I was walking past someone I should have been looking for— while opening the hood of the car fixing his broken down car in front of the semi-finished house, next to my house.

Unfortunately, I was unaware of his presence.

Up at the end of the street housing complex, it looks like the peddler fried noodles around the middle busy serving the buyers. A distance of one meter, my index finger counted the number of people who were queuing in front of the group. There are 3 people still waiting. It's okay, wait a minute.

Don't faint yet, dear, my mind is talking to the little creature in my stomach.

“Pak, fried noodles one,” my message after arriving in front of the seller.

“Wait for ya mbak. Queue,” replied the seller without seeing me, his hands and eyes fixed on the frying pan.

“Iya, sir,” I said while looking for a place to sit.

Arriving home, I opened the paper wrapper impatiently after almost 25 minutes waiting for me to finally get my food: a packet of good fried noodles.

Swallowing slow last send—getting out drinking water in a glass. Satisfied, I am really full. Mm, it turns out the fried noodles are still good!

In the past, coming home from the bimbel or coming home from group work I often stopped by to buy fried noodles. About almost 11 years I have never tasted the taste of fried noodles again in my residential complex, it feels like kangen.

“Hoaem.” I yawned wide, suddenly drowsiness attacked unbearably. I cleaned the dishes and washed them, then headed for the bedroom. It didn't take me long to fall asleep either.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

“CUT!” the director shouted loudly.

I breathed a sigh of relief, finally filming the final episode is over. “Thank you all, for the cooperation” my friendly word, circulating a perfect sweet smile—the crew replied with the same smile curve.

“Come home,” invite Firda who suddenly comes, put a jacket on my back. “I told you you're not feeling well—so can't come eat-eat.”

I'm nodding my head muttering “oh” slowly, heading to the car.

“Nes, what do you want to eat?” firda asked a while after the car drove out of the set.

“Ke ordinary place only,” I replied flat. Leaning his head to the back of the chair, tired.

“Typical place?” reply thought confused for a moment then then said, “O-oke.” As if I understood what I meant.

The restaurant seats looked deserted, there were only a few people sitting around enjoying the food. Yes, I like this place because not many visitors come—so I can relax to eat.

“Fir, I change clothes first. You order as usual,”

“Sayur moringa?”

“Yup!” I answered briefly and then passed from his presence to the toilet. Of course, there was no way I could eat while wearing a heel-length party dress (a filming costume). It's really uncomfortable.

Finished changing clothes, I returned to the seat where Firda was sitting right now. While waiting I remembered one thing: finding the father of my baby.

“Fir, you still remember not anyone my ex-boyfriend,” my question with a serious face.

The sproot! The water he was drinking came out. Surprised to hear my words just now.

“Nesya, we can discuss later. I don't want my appetite to go away, because discussing your ex-boyfriends too much,” the rebuttal is a little upset.

Spontaneously I pursed my lips to hear a less friendly answer from him. “Iya, yes.”

Arriving at home, I immediately pulled Firda's wrist and sat her down on the sofa—talked four eyes to her.

“Fir, filming is already underway. So—”

I hit his arm slowly. “Lebay. Ordinary times,” said I sewot do not accept.

“Kan right. Cook wrong,” he said sounds silly.

I sighed softly, reluctant to start a debate with him. “What do you think I should do?”

“Just write down the names and addresses of your exes. Let me ask and find out about them. Pity if your little one invited to wander unclear.”

I took a short breath while thinking. “Ehm, okay. I take a book first,” my answer goes from sitting— looking for something to write.

I found a small note with a picture of hello kitty in the drawer accessories, a gift from my little fans: the adorable little girl (niece of Firda).

“Already written,” sergeant Firda impatient.

“Not yet. I just found the book too. I write first.”

“Just write it first. I made orange juice not to be nauseous.”

“Waa, thank you for candut. Fine deh.” My smile is subtly insinuating.

“Sama-sama princess,” reply is ridiculous.

While busy writing, I play pen trying to recall the past. There are some that I still remember, some that are forgotten. Right said Firda, “too many ex”.

Oi! I'm not a play girl, just too famous. Hohoho. That's real not a joke.

I began to write the first order of names up to the tenth. Yup, I only remember the ten names of my ex-boyfriend, the others don't.

Doubtfully I gave the notebook to Firda, he furrowed both eyebrows when he read the names listed on the list. There are two names unknown to him.

“Mm, what kind of people's features? Is there something in common with one of your ex?” ask Firda to investigate.

I stared at the wall— thought for a moment to guess the possibility of almost the same characteristics between the man and one of the ex I mentioned.

Until Firda breaks my daydream, “Where? Is there the same?”

I looked at him hesitantly then suddenly remembered—thinking a little more, finally came the faint image of a figure from one of the former names that was thrown straight out of my mouth.

“You sure it's him?”

“Seems?” I said, “we try first from number one. I'm just trying to ask my SMA friend. Ask for this and this one. You must know the three of them,” my words sound so enthusiastic, pointing to the name I mean in the notes.

“Then Leon?” Firda asked not understanding.

“Make what ask him. He was obviously cheating on another woman. Don't say his name again, make me upset,” my fiery jolt, suddenly angry.

Firda spontaneously patted gently on the shoulder of my arm, “Sabar, patient. Sorry, mistake. Don't upset. Remember the little guy. Calm down. Take a deep breath, exhale."

Unknowingly I followed his directions, a little help indeed.

Suddenly I remembered one thing.

The afternoon!

Miels behind up date.pardon long 🤗

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