HUSBAND'S HEART

ILHAM ADELIO Part 2

A bright morning, spreading a warm light for every creature that is starting their daily activities. There was the sound of birds chirping coming from the trees around the golf course. Butterflies that welcome sunlight appear to fly with an occasional perch on the flowers that are blooming in the flower garden around the fence of the house.

But the morning sunshine was not able to make the atmosphere of the room warmed. The room has been completely dark since last night. Thick curtains of cloudy concrete of gray remain tightly closed without giving the slightest gap for the entry of sunlight.

Even from inside the dark room was not visible if there was actually a young man who was sleeping on his stomach on a sleigh bed. Bed with brown mahogany leather headboard and vintage dark mahogany cots. The slightly exposed bed cover was not so tangled even though it was crushed by the young man's body. It seemed like there had been no meaningful movement since he had fallen asleep to this point.

Ilham Adelio, 26, seemed reluctant to open his eyes instead of getting up this morning.

tock..tok...

"Mas... Mas Ilham's. Breakfast is ready."

The sound of someone knocking on the door of the room of Inspiration. As usual, there was no answer. Patiently, Mbok Sari, the middle-aged woman who knocked on the door was waiting for a while in front of the door.

It has been a few days, Ilham, his young master always missed dawn and even his breakfast. He just left the room when it was noon. It was like it made no difference, the house was as if it was uninhabited. Because after slightly filling the stomach, Ilham will go up to the third floor where his personal space is located.

No matter what room, no one knows. Because no one is allowed to enter it.

When Abah Haikal bought this house, there was no room on the third floor, only a helipad which was then transformed into a spacious room by Ilham.

Only Mbok Sari who occasionally went up to the third floor, even then only until the front door of the room. To remind the young master of dinner of course.

The three-story luxury house is only inhabited by Ilham. While Mbok Sari and other workers live in the back pavilion. Only Mbok Sari and her husband, Pak Hadi were given access to enter the house.

In fact, Inspiration is not a kara. She has a mother, Fatma her name, only currently in Singapore. Ms. Fatma was accompanying Annisa who had just given birth to her second son. Annisa is the younger sister of Ilham, who has two children, 3-year-old Azyan and newly born Noris 3 months ago. Her husband, Zein, who is of Chinese-Javanese and Arab-Batak descent, has several outlets in Far East Plaza and Bugis Street.

In addition to her mother and sister, Ilham also has an older brother. Grace, a businessman and investor in the capital. He has the wife of a lecturer at a state university and a teenage daughter who is boarding school at Tsuraya International Islamic High Shool.

While Ilham after graduating from college inherited the company of his late father who was previously managed by Bu Fatma.

Inspiration is indeed from the beginning has been predicted to continue the efforts of his father, because Grace prefers to follow his own passion. Therefore, Ilham did not have many slang friends.

Every day his activities after school is to follow his father wherever he goes both corporate affairs, friendship with his father's business colleagues even go to teach at some briefing.

Except when he decides to study abroad, he really has to be independent. Although in the end he had to return to the land of birth in order to continue his father's business.

The return was about a year ago, which should have been the beginning of happiness for her. It was precisely the beginning of a tragedy that was very painful for him, which dropped him in the abyss of the deepest slump.

tok...

"Mas Ilham... breakfast I bring to the room?" mbok Sari again. Just to convince himself, whether the employer he loved since childhood was awake or not. I don't know how many minutes he was standing at the door.

ceklek...

Before long the door opened, then Ilham was still in plain gray pajamas, pillow face a little pale tyrannical and disheveled hair. Fine hair grows around the chin to the front of the ear. What a sight that never happened before.

Inspiration that usually always looks neat and fresh, never forget to shave. What a contrast to the sightings of the last few days. Looks unkempt and not in good shape.

Mbok Sari smiled looking at his employer who was yawning and scratching his nape.

"I take a shower, Mbok. And please clean up my room."

"Okay Mas," said Mbok Sari while entering the room.

After Ilham entered the bathroom, immediately women the age of Fatma bu opened the curtains wide.

The room that had previously appeared to be pitch-black instantly became brightly lit. The heat of the morning sun slowly seeped into the room, the temperature of the originally cold room became slowly warmed.

From the wide glass that opened the curtains earlier, there was a medium-sized balcony, which contained a lounge chair and a round table on the left and a monstera flower pot on the right corner. There are two sets of 3 kg and 5 kg dumbbells lying on the floor in the right corner.

Open one side of the glass door that limits the room with a balcony, so that fresh air can enter the room.

After that, he tidied up the bedcover and arranged the pillow bolsters and blankets. Walk around the room to see if there are things that need to be addressed. But it seemed to be nothing, not even a grain of dust was he seen.

"Thank you Mbok" said Ilham, putting his dirty clothes in a basket near the bathroom door. Then walk in closed next to the bathroom.

"Sama-sama Mas's. I've prepared breakfast under Mas."

Then Mbok Sari took the laundry basket and brought it to the back pavilion.

After wearing casual clothes, beige bermuda pants and white plain sweatshirt, Ilham walked to the balcony.

Raise his hands and pull his back up and to the side. Then put his hands on his waist and twirled his ankles alternately. Had glanced at the dumbbell in his right corner, wanted to take it but undone it.

His gaze was then glued to the flower garden beside his house, right in front of the balcony below his room. Looking at the unkempt flower garden, many shrubs and weeds were growing and the plants in pots were starting to dry up.

Landscape garden that should look beautiful so look apprehensive.

Then a small dusty pavilion and the paint color faded. Seemed at some point overgrown with moss and become a cobweb.

If it can be seen from the outside, it will be in stark contrast to the luxurious house that is very clean and well maintained.

The small pavilion and flower garden are next to the house, very private, the only access is the iron door in the warehouse at the very end of the back pavilion. And only Inspiration holds the key to the iron door.

It appears that Ilham's jaw is slightly hardened then slightly looked up and then turned itself into the room.

Grabbing a phone on the nightstand, typing a message on his assistant, Arief, asking him to handle his job because today he can not go to work again today. And it's the fifth day.

After the message showed a blue tick, he immediately turned off his phone and rushed down for breakfast.

Without saying much, he sat down on the dining table chair. There's some food on that table. All are her favorite breakfast menu. He suddenly felt very hungry. Mbok Sari is the best.

"Still Mbok.. omelette is delicious," said Ilham while chewing omelet with greed.

Then he took a sandwich and ate it in two mouthfuls. He took chicken porridge which was not so warm, but still he ate it greedily as well.

"Why, Mbok?" tanya Ilham when he saw Mbok Sari shaking his head with a smile.

"Laper, Mbok," he continued while looking at the person who nurtured him since childhood.

"How ndak laper Mas. Yesterday just breakfast bread oles trus all day without eating. Take care of your health... Mbok is sad if later Mas Ilham becomes sick again," slowly Mbok Sari tried to give advice to employers who he had considered as his own child.

But Ilham only nodded his head once then he finished a glass of mineral water and then went upstairs to his private room on the third floor of the house.

Mbok Sari could only sigh and then clean the tableware that had just been used by Ilham for breakfast.

"Sar... How is Mas Ilham?" asked Mr. Hadi as soon as he entered the kitchen.

"It's still like yesterday, but this was eating a lot. It seems like Mas Ilham did not go to work anymore.it is above what happens, yes, I am worried about Pak'e," replied Mbok Sari sadly.

Mr. Hadi sighed heavily, there was concern on the look on his face about the condition of the employer he considered as his own son.

However he has promised to take care of this family, more precisely serve. He used to be a nobody, even looked at one eye by the people around him, suddenly appointed as an assistant Abah Haikal.

"Have you prepared Ms Fatma's room? Maybe in an hour he'll be at the airport."

"Already Mr. Soto favorite Mother is also ready. Sir´e want soto breakfast?" mbok Sari replied while offering breakfast.

Then the husband and wife who served since singles to the Haikal Maulana family enjoyed breakfast together. In both hearts they both have hopes that the arrival of Bu Fatma will restore Inspiration to a better state.