BETTING

DISILLUSIONED

Celine walked straight into the office building. Luxurious, majestic buildings that rise in the middle of the pride of the capital.

He was a bit doubtful of actually stepping his foot into this place. However, the determination on his chest was already round. He wants to get everything done soon. For almost two months there has been no news of Bhishma, her husband.

A few times in contact by phone but less in response. His message was only answered occasionally, it was also short. One thing he still routinely gets is transfers for children.

Bhishma has just disappeared since the last call after his wife's arrival.

Celine can't be treated like this. He does not want to be hanged, wants clarity about their relationship. Whether she is still considered a wife or not. If the man doesn't want it, it's good that he's divorced.

Heart hurts. Feel like an item, taken and thrown away at will. He's not appreciated one bit.

His eyes went around looking at the atmosphere around this office. Looks like everyone is busy with their own activities, back and forth does not stop. Not much has changed since the last time he arrived. Only the receptionist was different, not the woman who wanted to throw him out first.

"Good morning, how can we help you?" ask the woman friendly.

"I want to meet with Sister Bisma. Can you?" said it.

"Oh Mr. Bisma. Is there an appointment?" His eyes were full of searching, asking in his heart who this woman before him was, beautiful and classy.

Celine's appearance this time was different. She wears a knee-length casual dress from a famous designer. He also wears jewelry, bags and shoes from a well-known brand.

She did not want to be looked at one eye when visiting her husband's office. Especially if he's having an expulsion for the second time.

"Not yet." He shook his head weakly."Just tell him Celine wants to see you."

He felt uneasy, his hands were sweating coldly from earlier. He has to meet Bisma today. Got to!

"Attent, yeah. I'll connect first." The woman dialed a number. Whether she spoke anything, Celine did not notice.

"Where?"

"Please go up to the seventh floor. Through the elevator over there. Someone will lead you to Mr.'s room. Bisma."

"Oh, yes. You can ask security if you can't use the elevator."

Celine threw away her face. Already look like this, it turns out there are still people who consider themselves inferior. She is an ordinary woman, not a socialite. Maybe his self-care is not suitable for luxury looks.

Elevator door opens. There was a long hallway with many rooms. But, the atmosphere looks different, this one is more exclusive.

Celine came to a table, just like in front of earlier, this floor also had a receptionist.

"Yes, Mother?"

"I'd like to see Mr. Bisma." He's making a formal call.

"Mother Celine?"

"Yes." Yeah."

"May wait a minute. There are guests. Maybe in half an hour. You can sit there." He pointed at a sofa in the corner.

"So he said he could meet up."

"Yes, Mother. Mr. Bisma's willing to meet, just wait a minute."

"Mbak, please. I need to meet now. Which one's the room?"

"Sorry, Mother. But ..."

"Say which one!" He snaps at the woman. Thankfully, there was no security there. The woman still refused to tell.

Removed for book publishing purposes.