About the Heart

By-By

The holy journey feels like a dream. In my memory, just yesterday was about to leave. In fact nine days have passed and now we are here again, the apartment.

After resting last night, this morning we were back in shape. Tired of the long journey home it feels lost. Memory of inner peace that can not be bought, reveals the sense to be able to immediately return to it again.

Various souvenirs that we deliberately bought directly at Zakfariah Market, the plan today will be delivered to the owner. Not much, just for close family. Mama, Papa and Mommy Sharika.

The journey began by knocking on the door of my sister-in-law's study. Instead of meeting her at home, we went to the store. Not just looking for the owner but also looking at the latest collection of plans from my husband's single brother.

"There's no problem with your pregnancy?" mama asked Sharika as soon as I hugged her.

"Thank God, everyone is healthy, Ma'am. There's no obstacle at all" I said honestly.

"Take off your hat, it's not polite in the room to wear a head covering."

Dion smiling. He was not confident in his head. The usual thick and slightly wavy hair is now no longer residing. Replacing with stunning glare.

"It doesn't matter, Mom."

Dion flipped his hat so that it seemed safer than the slurs his parents would throw. The brother just shook his head. No longer fussy because he knew it would just be the wind then. Disappear from hearing without being included in the form of deeds.

"It's Kashmir honey, huh?" search Ms Sharika when opening my souvenirs and find a medium-sized bottle.

Dion gave a nod.

"Then, what is this?" mama Sharika asked again as soon as she took a pack of food without reading the packaging first.

"That's dried fig, Ma'am."

Sister Sharika nodded. The curiosity that hung in his mind made him impatient to open up immediately. Tasting it and showing a liking face. Compliments were also lifted from his lips. Not a delicious word but delicious.

"By you are not like most people. But I like it, thank you, yeah."

We also put on a smile as a substitute for the word together. The hope of meeting Arrki becomes love is not until. The funny nephew was at home. Not going to work with the mother. As a result, we immediately paid off after Sister Sharika gave me a maternity suit that was specifically designed for me. Be a barter, a souvenir versus a maternity suit.

💐💐💐💐💐

The second house we went to was Mama's. Unfortunately, there was no one there. Mama's got business on the farm. While Kristy is preoccupied with her increasingly crowded college schedule. Finally, we just left souvenirs for them and left a number of items to share with the brothers from the big Mama family.

Take a short break in my favorite room while waiting for lunch. Bu Iyah, who helped take care of the house in the last few months has cooked a lot. And we can enjoy it.

"Darling, the seals aren't your body?" dion asked as I chose to immediately lay down on the bed as soon as I got to the room.

"Little."

Without me asking, Dion massaged my leg. The full touch of tenderness, pampering and making me carried in comfort. Like hypnotizing and raising awareness. Slowly, entering the dream realm and unconscious again, when the massage stopped.

I don't know how long I slept, when I realized, there was already a circle of arms that locked my stomach that began to bulge. The smell of the body that came out quickly detected that this man who was holding me was my beloved husband.

Intention to open my next eye, as soon as I paused. The warmth he gave made me not want to let go of hugs. The heat offered is too dear if I throw it. Being behind his confines is a peace that cannot be replaced.

I closed my eyes again. And I feel this circle of hands getting tighter. The breath feels warmer. The eyes feel increasingly clingy entangled by drowsiness that is still languishing. We're back to melting. Take a nap in the room I left behind. A beloved bed with a pujaan man accompanied my long sleep.

🍥🍥🍥🍥🍥

The hour hand that shows at three in the afternoon, witnesses our arrival at the luxurious residence of the new Papa, the family of Najendra Dharma. Incidentally, the owner who is usually busy is at home. Accompanied by his only son, the four of us chatted in the living room.

Papa told me without asking. Reveal the happiness of his heart because he could meet his beloved son every day. There is wisdom behind our holy journey. Families who had LDR can be reunited.

"Today, Aryan's going back with them to the apartment, Pa."

"Wouldn't you do it, Brother lives with Papa, would you? Poor him alone," my timpalku advised.

"He won't be calm away from you" Papa said with a smile.

The two men with Dharma's last name continued to argue. Not insistent in anger, but insinuating in a smile. Me and Dion who were watching could only smile. That's what a single male duo is like.

"Pa, this is a little souvenir from us," I said while giving a paper bag batik pattern.

With a big smile, Papa received the item I gave him. Thank you very sincerely. The boy we didn't give the package to, protested. Dion replied, if his gift was in the car. That's because, he said he'd go back to the apartment. So why give it up now?

"Go home now, yuk! I can't wait to see it for me."

"Basic Aryan! You're ngusir a guest?"

The brother just smiled at Papa's words. Willing to answer but restrained by the sound of his phone. Soon he picked up and chose to stay a little away so as not to disturb the chat we were doing.

"Sa, how's your novel?" Suddenly Papa asked me about a new activity I never told you about. Mama or Mr Aryan who has leaked?

"Just a free time filler, Pa. Thank God the reader's welcome is good. the view is increasing."

"Why not get published, okay?" search Papa while giving advice.

"Rosa's still learning, Pa."

"Dion has suggested so, Pa. But he wants to enter the contest first. If winning is also published, Pa."

Dion explained clearly. So that Papa mangosteen as a sign of accepting what my husband was trying to explain. The chat came to a halt when Mr. Aryan returned and was in a hurry to return to the apartment because there was something he had to take there. We immediately agreed. Papa, who seemed to still want to talk together, asked us to stop by often. We agree because between us are bound by affection. Feeling like a family, he was Papa and we were his biological children.

🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘

In the car Mr. Aryan that we used to deliver souvenirs, has increased one more head. Two men sitting in the front seat, and me relaxing in the back seat.

"What do you choose for me?" Mr. Aryan was very excited to investigate the items we brought from the holy land.

"Abang, no patience, anyway."

I immediately picked up a blue box with a white ribbon that beautified it. Leaning to Mr. Aryan from behind. He rushed to open with a happy hue. But instantly the look of his face changed as soon as the contents of the box were in his hands.

He turned his body to the back bench where I was. " Mukena?"

Eyebrows at the same time. Signs that the question has an answer yes.

"why give me mukena?" the grunts are still pointing their bodies backwards.

"Make dowry, Bang," I timped with a smile that I kept from turning into a booming laugh.

Mr. Aryan ruffled my hair of origin. "Bas with you, brothers who need to be beaten!"