HUSBAND'S HEART

the Part 38 DEJAVU

With a sigh, Ilham looked at Yuana's face. Round eyes with pliable eyelashes, beautiful arched eyebrows are not thick nor thin, the tip of the nose that almost touches the tip of the nose.

Her white and smooth cheeks were seen blushing in the sunlight refracted by the baby pink cloth that covered both of their faces. And those little round lips that were slightly opened were quite eye catching. It's like there's an urge inside of you to touch it.

'Can I repeat it?'

The teenage inspiration sat on the sidelines with his teammates, with Amar to his left. The sweat that flooded his body made the sticky t-shirts he wore.

Sipping mineral water directly from the bottle while shaking the t-shirt on his stomach so that he can feel the coolness.

Participating in helping Amar compete in a soccer match representing Kyai Marzuki boarding school against a neighboring cottage is quite exciting filling his school holiday. Sports matches in the framework of the pesantren cottage at that time.

Back then, a break awaited the start of the final round after his team won the semi-final match.

Somehow, the committee let the egrang, which is bamboo formed like a stick that has a footstool made of wood, used to play with children. Inspiration looked at it for a while and focused on looking at the middle of the field.

At first glance it was seen that some children of elementary school age, most of whom were 'family dalem' and asatidz, enthusiastically tried to walk on foot on the grass.

One of them was a girl with shoulder-length hair who was pulled in two.

The boy seems to have begun to master the game of egrang. Evidently he could walk a few steps circular back to where he was riding the grass earlier.

But in his third attempt he lost control. A move that is too fast makes him unable to control the egrang in his hand grip.

A step too fast makes it unintentionally like running towards Ilham and his friends and finally falling right on top of Ilham who is not aware of the situation.

Inspiration was pushed back on his back with the girl right above his body. Inspiration's forehead feels shrill. Inspiration was silent looking at the face with round eyes hairy lentic eyes. Want to be angry so not be. 'This child is adorable, ' Inner Inspiration while peeking at her tiny lips.

The inspiration of a teenager who began to go puberty, although he was not at all interested in enjoying the days of monkey cibta that was completely useless for his future was never khilaf. Spontaneous hypocrisy that makes him more persistent to achieve success at a young age.

The girl was not only frightened, her eyes were rounded for fear of being scolded and also held pain in her nose so as not to realize what Ilham had just done. And when he saw blood dripping into the face of Inspiration from his nose, the boy burst into tears. Getting scared.

Events that attract enough attention. Some tried to help the child, some scolded other children so as not to play with the regrang again, some laughed at the fate of Inspiration.

"Who's the kid?" he asked Amar, who was trying to help him sit down.

"Children like him. Definitely not the Dalem family."

"Yuana!" shouted a mother who looked young and beautiful, who had just arrived because she was late to find out her son was wretched.

The inspiration that heard the voices of these mothers, recorded well in his memory. "Yuana."

Dejavu.

"Mother! Daddy!" nabila's scream shocked Ilham and Yuana.

Yuana who was struggling to move was finally able to stand up when Ilham loosened the hug on her waist. She quickly pulled out her hijab.

A clumsy smile turned his body towards Nabila who was in front of the iron door. Paled back and lowered his head when he realized that standing right behind Nabila, Ms. Fatma looked at Ilham and Yuana alternately.

"Don't get me wrong, Ummah. Earlier Yuana kesrimpet, her legs were wrapped around the tip of her skirt, so she fell head-on to Ilham," pleated Ilham as Bu Fatma squinted her eyes at Ilham. Clearly Ms. Fatma saw both of Ilham's hands tightly coiled around Yuana's waist.

Quickly Ilham stood up and patted his pants. Then walked towards Ms. Fatma, grabbed the arm of the dear mother and took her back to the main house.

He deliberately walked a little behind Ms. Fatma so that her mother did not see that the other hand was rubbing the stomach of the former operation that suddenly felt pain.

"Basin' bad boy! Why not say if you want to go home, at least ummah can pick up, can pay well with Gus." Ms. Fatma tried to refocus and not think.

"Ilham does not want to trouble Ummah, occasionally taking a taxi is okay, sharing the windfall too right? Now how Ummah, Azyan said that he was still often dizzy, "Ilham turned her attention, while sitting Bu Fatma on the sofa after they arrived in the family room. He also sat beside her.

"Alhamdulillah, it's gone. Congenital age, can't be much of a thought said the doctor."

"Ilham was very upset, Ummah," Ilham shifted his seat a little and laid his head on his mother's lap.

Ms. Fatma smiled with the spoiled action of Ilham. His beloved son never changed, independent on the outside but very spoiled for his mother.

Dusapnya Ilham hair while telling many things. About his health, about the company, about Rahmat and Annisa, also about their family's social activities.

When Ms. Fatma was about to mention Yuana, there was a soft snoring, apparently Ilham fell asleep in her lap.

Ms. Fatma smiled, she was glad that Ilham could finally return home.

"O Allah, please love my son Inspiration, as I have loved him. Forgive all his caliphs. Give him the blessing of age, the blessing of rizqi. Keep him away from all the reinforcements. The Ilaa ruhani Ilham Adelio,

A'udzubillahiminasyshyaitoonirrojiim. Bimillaahirrohaanirrohiim. Alhamdulillaahi. Arrohmaanirrohiim arroha.

Maaliki.

Iyyaaka na'budu wa yaaka nastaiin.

Ihdinasshirothol.

Shirootolladziina an amta 'alaihim ghoiril maghdluubi 'alaihim waladldloolliin. Aamiin's."

Rubbing his head while chanting a prayer, then reciting Al Fatihah and blowing into the crown of Ilham.

The routine that bu Fatma did from a small Inspiration even to adulthood as it is today. Without knowing the time, without getting bored.

The condition of Ms. Fatma who still cannot be said to be fit, and still under the influence of drugs, made her feel without falling asleep berbantalkan sofa backrest with Ilham remained asleep in her lap.

While in the pavilion, Yuana invites Nabila to try walking barefoot on synthetic grass. More precisely distract his daughter from the bad thing he just saw. Also for the sake of neutralizing his heart from the shock, fear, anger, annoyance and embarrassment mixed into one.

Shocked at the sound of the bang of the iron door, afraid of the reaction of the anger of Inspiration later, angry at feeling as if Inspiration took advantage of the situation, and irritated at the words of Inspiration to his mother who slightly cornered him. He was worried that Ms. Fatma was getting the more misunderstood of him by thinking that Yuana was deliberately pretending to fall towards Ilham. He was very embarrassed because of his absurd position was seen by Ms. Fatma and especially by her son Nabila.

"Why does your cheek turn so bad? Mother sick?"

"Ah it's okay, baby, you're just tired. Because just finished installing this grass. How, good no? Comfortable not playing here?"

"Badus, Mommy... Tamanna dadi tantik's. If only Asiyan could play here?"

"Of course we can, but now we go in first. Already entered dhuhur time, we pray first trus why try?"

"Tenus maem dairy powder noon."

"Pinter's mother's son"

Yuana felt a little relieved because Nabila had forgotten her sight earlier. They finally entered the pavilion. Not realizing that from the only balcony of the second floor of the main house facing the garden, there was someone who slightly bent his body over the fence paying attention to the interaction of the two.

After learning that his mother had fallen asleep, Ilham slowly got up and went to his room. When he was in the room, he heard Nabila's voice from the balcony. Surely Nabila was talking to Yuana, he thought, so that Ilham rushed to sneak up to the balcony and peek at the two.

"They are mother and son" he said.

With a gontai step, Ilham walked towards his bed. Picked up the phone on the nightstand and dropped his back on the bed.

"Rief, take me!"

And this is where he finally stood, with both hands put in his pants pocket. He tried repeatedly to take a deep breath. Wanted to be angry, angry. As if the anger he had accumulated a little in his heart was already unstoppable.

Had he faced standing right in front of him, perhaps he could have showered him with some raw bogeman. At least he can release everything he has been incubating all this time with real physical action. But the truth is not.

Inspiration could only look at the mound of earth covered in fine grass and a gravestone at one end. A tombstone made of black granite reads "AMAR NASIRUDDIN".

Circling in Ilham's memory, how Amar apologized and asked for blessing when he was about to marry Yuana. How Amar who always complained about the difficulties of Yuana's parent company that made Ilham always took the trouble to find a solution.

Then hear the story of Arief along the way to Makobu Hill, in detail about the state of Yuana why he had to stay in his pavilion.

Somehow describe the feeling of Inspiration throughout the journey. Feelings of sadness, anger, anger and more to the feeling of disappointment, piled up into one stirring in the chest.

Psithurism, the wind is quite strong hit the body, some dry leaves that come crashing, does not make itself flinch.

Arief, who felt cautious in conveying information, could only stand agitatedly at the gate of Amar's tomb block, worried if Ilham did things that did not make sense. Cussing, raging or dismantling the tomb for example.

He was confused to see the other funeral blocks, whether there was anyone else in the cemetery. Fortunately the atmosphere was quiet, maybe because the day was very hot, not the right time to make a pilgrimage indeed.

But he can smile with relief, because it turns out that Inspiration is still Inspiration, which can always control himself, no matter how angry he is, no matter how disappointed it is.

Arief does not know about Ilham's past with Amar, but he can feel there is something unusual between them. About Bu Fatma's attitude towards Yuana and Ilham's anger at the late Amar after asking her to tell him everything she knew about Yuana.

Suddenly, a slight sound of Inspiration growled, breaking the sound of psithurism, making Arief shudder in horror.

"Kutitikkan him to you, I asked you to take care of him for me, you married him instead! Then I asked you to make her happy, you dragged her into trouble! And now, in what way did you send her to my house, huh! Don't you dare face me directly? A coward!"

Arief grew more fearful and worried, because he did not tell the story thoroughly because it removed the story about the donor cadaver, because both Bu Fatma and Yusron asked Arief to keep it secret from Ilham and Yuana first. Because they will explain themselves at the right time.

"Rief."

Arief hurried over to Ilham who called him.

"What's Yuana's status in the pavilion?"

"Mbak Yuana is under contract for one year starting from a month ago. Do I have to cancel the contract?"

"Just look for ways, anything to extend the contract period. If it can be forever, don't let the contract end!" press Ilham while pointing at Arief's chest.

"Good, sir." Arief can only obey the orders of Ilham, thinking hard to find the common thread of Ilham's past relationship, Amar and Yuana.

Inspiration herself was actually still shocked and unexpected, it was Yuana, someone said by Ms. Fatma who was taking care of the garden and the pavilion. The garden and pavilion he had deliberately built to offer to someone who had been imprinted in his heart. Someone who with all his might he tried to forget and be sincere.

He is confused about how to deal with this condition. Was there still the same feeling and despair in his heart after so many things had happened in his life? Should he forget everything, start over by telling her to leave? What if it means repeating the same mistakes as in the past?

"Yahoooooooo!"

Ilham untied his long hair beyond his shoulders, ruffled it in annoyance then crouched down and placed his fist on the tombstone.

"You know!? What has been the hardest thing I've done in my entire life? Forget it! Flaunt it! And I did that... For you! For you, Amaaar. For our friendship first. Because you're the only person I've considered a best friend, all this time. Now, tell me! What should I do for him. Say it! Say, Mar!!"

With a raucous voice, Ilham spoke to the tombstone. His fist even revealed the greenish-purple streaks of stiffened hand veins.

Then suddenly Ilham cried as he pleased, he tried to raise his face so that his tears did not drip.

"I don't know, now I still have a heart or not, even if it's for him. Even the heart in my body is not mine. How am I supposed to deal with it now?"