Divorce Me!

Chapter 4

"Nduk, here! Let me just finish your sale, you take a break!" mother's orders. He had just come to me, when the buyers were already starting to leave and I was left here with a dirty tool.

For almost two weeks I have been selling rice uduk, hodgepodge and fried and made a small cottage in front of the mother's house. Since officially divorced from Ali, I had to fight for my own living for my son.

Because I can only cook, so I decided to sell breakfast in this village. Armed with the money I borrowed from my mother as the initial capital of my sale.

Thank God for blessing my steps, giving me ease in finding sustenance for my baby.

"No, Mom. Let Sukma alone take care of all this, I must be tired of babysitting Fitri from earlier. Sorry, Mom. If Sukma continues to trouble mom," I said while cleaning up my sale this afternoon.

These eyes feel starting to heat up, if not I hold back, may have escaped the tears on the cheeks.

Mother smiled gently and stroked my hair, "Don't be discouraged, Nduk! The way of life of every human being is different. I'm glad you and Fitri are here. So there is a companion to the mother's old days," said the soft mother. His heart was so touched to hear his words.

"Out of your sales, Nduk?" said mother back. He smiled to see the steling that contained my sales clean. Only fried crumbs remain in the tray.

I'm nodding. " Yes, Mom. Thank God" I replied happily. Gratitudefully.

"Alhamdulillah, Son. Your sustenance and Fitri, "reply mother.

"Pray for Sukma, Mom. Hopefully Sukma's savings quickly collected, so that Sukma can rent a place to open a restaurant, at the end of the alley near the road there!" My love for mom. Because the prayers of the parents will be easily answered, he said he can penetrate to the seventh heaven.

"Of course, Son. Mother's prayer is always with you," answered my mother, making me again grateful to be given the blessings of parents who always love me. Always with me, both hard and sad. If my mother didn't exist, I don't know what my life would be like.

I quickly tidied up the leftovers, which were in my cottage, stacking the dirty dishes and basin together. Then lift him out and lock the little cottage before entering the house.

Put this body down for a moment, before going to the market to buy the ingredients and vegetables I need for sale tomorrow morning.

I wake up at three o'clock, cook and prepare the sale so that at six o'clock in the morning my sale is ready at eleven o'clock in the afternoon. During the day I took a short break and accompanied Fitri, because after that afternoon I had to go to the market for shopping.

This is the routine I do every day. Although tired, but I am happy, happy with the rupiah coffers that I made myself.

Although only a little, but enough for the lives of both of us, without having to beg the needs of Fitri to my ex-husband.

Let me be a widow, than my wounded mind!

Tonight my eyes sparkled, counting the rupiah sheets that I had collected during the two weeks of selling. It's very precious to me and Fitri.

My customers initially just a little long to be a lot, a spice that feels, makes a lot of people here who shop for breakfast to me. The plan is if I have more sustenance I want to open a small restaurant by renting a shop at the end of the road.

About my ex-husband, Mas Ali. Until now, he had never met his daughter, and about his living? he kept his promise not to give a living for Fitri a penny.

Although in court he agreed, that he was obliged to give my daughter a living until she was sixteen. But let it be his responsibility to the Lord in the Hereafter. I don't want to protest, let alone demand.

I also heard from the neighbors here who were invited by him, if he had a very fancy wedding with his new wife. Unlike my first marriage which was titled simply, it was my parents who held it. On the other hand, Mas Ali does not exist. Even just because it's just.

At that time the late father was very offended to see the treatment of Mas Ali's family to me. However, because of my blind love, I just accept their zholim treatment to me. Ahh.. Come to think of it now, how stupid of me. I grimaced to realize this mistake in the past. However, yes.already, the rice has become porridge. I never regretted it again.

I put the money sheet I was holding back into my wallet, then put it in a drawer next to my bed. My eyes now turned to look at the puffed up baby puth, sleeping soundly on the bed. Her red, moving lips as if she was frowning on something looked so adorable.

I moved slowly, taking my most comfortable position, lying next to my daughter. Stare at the puffed-up toddler with her cheeks that have two reddish-red dots.

"Wah..seems like grandma kekolongan this time dear, until the cheeks mbul children mother get bitten by mosquitoes, or the mosquitoes are naughty huh, baby?" I chuckled at the tone of my own words made up like the voice of a child.

I love my son's head, I have nothing more to ask for in my life right now. I just want to focus on raising my son and making the angel who gave birth to me happy. Enough of this has become a burden on his life.

I walked from one stall to another, carrying my basket full of vegetables. This modern traditional market is so vast, and is the largest market in my village. It is also close to home.

While being engrossed in choosing a ripe banana for my selling material, the corner of my eye caught the figure of a pair of humans who had just come closer to me, hand in hand.

I turned my head and as soon as my body stiffened, with my hands clenched tightly on both sides of my body, I stared at the two humans who were now standing before me sharply. They also returned my gaze with a grin on their lips, as if mocking and continuing to show off their affection for me.

Oh Allah...Yes Robby..strengthen the heart of your fragile servant! Don't let my anger make me embarrass myself here! I want to knock the heads of the two men*j*kkan this right now, astagfirullah al'adzim!