Just a Bond

Strong, Najwa! You Can!

“Big cry, hell, Najwa,” hisisku to myself. I quickly wiped those tears, afraid someone would pass by, and then suspected me. Especially if it's Dad or Mas Reza. Can be serious and long business if they are caught.

“Halo? Najwa Maam. This is me taking care of Rizqun, Ma'am. Ma'am who wants to take to my room?”

God, it turns out the phone connection is still connected. Dodol. Duh, this is what people hear not, yes, I was hissing what?

Pause for a moment, I replied. “Then just give it to the person. Ma'am wants to help Mbak Diva in the kitchen.” After answering so, I immediately hung up the phone. For a moment, I fell silent while staring at the screen of the phone that still displayed the number Mas Farhan I just contacted.

Uh, if it's lost real sanity, I've slammed this phone. Fortunately I was conscious.

“Astaghfirullahal azim!” Quickly, I patted my eel as I remembered my original purpose to the room. Earlier I intended to take scissors to open the coconut milk packaging as a mixture of lodeh sauce, because the word Diva Mbak scissors there is lost, out of nowhere. Then arrived at the room, and was treated to the circumstances of Mas Farhan who lost it. I just used the excuse to help Miss Diva in the kitchen, right? I don't even think about that goal.

Bad, my brain.

“Waduh, Ms Diva will think I covered where, huh? Download scissors really old.” Not wanting to make his beloved wife Mas Gibran wait too long, I accelerated my steps to the room.

“Me no?”

My God, I almost had a heart attack. How not? Mas Farhan suddenly stood in front of me the first time he opened the room door. Kuelus softened my chest while continuing to exhale deeply. Ah, looking at his face, made me think of the incident just now.

“I-iya. Meet, Mas. Mas Farhan just forgot the time, because of the fun of chatting.”

"What do you mean?" He looked at me with a visibly astonished look, then reached out before me. “Where did his HP go?”

“A-anu, the—”

Mas Farhan clucked. “Why are you, anyway? Said meet? Where's the HP now? I'd like to contact Kinan and the shop person.”

My breath began to hunt.

Relax, Najwa. Don't get emotional. Strong, Najwa! You can!

While I was still unmoved and secretly trying to calm myself down, Mas Farhan suddenly asked again, “You why, Najwa? Your face looks haphazard. You cried? Your eyes are red too, tuh.”

I exhaled a long breath. My face is awful, yes. Though just crying for a while, not up to five minutes, it has been discovered when you cry. I still haven't answered Mas Farhan's question, because relaxing myself under these circumstances is very difficult. One side wanted to vent all the emotions that appeared inside the chest, one side did not want to show weakness again by suddenly crying in front of Mas Farhan.

I keep forcing myself to relax, because honestly, remembering the incident just made me emotional and want to be angry with him. But I can't, and I shouldn't. What do I mind for, ‘kan? Mas Farhan doesn't care either.

“Later there will be people who give HP same to you, Mas. Said he wanted to give it to you.”

"Who?"

"Remain unsure? Pretend to forget or what?"

"You're the answer, you know? Why not the pointsaja?"

I went to the right side of the door to enter. I don't want to linger near Mas Farhan. But Mas Farhan even blocked my path. Makes me a little cocky.

I looked up, staring at his face - his eyes - which still implied suspicion. "What else, Mom? I helped you, her phone met too. Just wait for the guy to give you a hand, right?"

Both hands of Mas Farhan moved to touch my shoulders, making the heartbeat back no longer. His sharp gaze that returned to highlight my eyes, again made me unable to look at him. “You're not stupid, Najwa. You know that's not the answer I want. What I ask, why you? Why are you crying?”

Ah, Mas Farhan why, anyway? Does he not know that I am not strong enough to be okay if he pretends to care again like this? I felt like I wanted to cry again and scold her mercilessly. He was acting out. What does he think my heart is? The rock?! Remember, Najwa. From now on must get used to the same indifference to her kindness, for she will never be able to open her heart to you.

“Who's crying, anyway, Mas? No one was crying, really. I'm nothing.” I tried to get back up the courage to look back at him, then I lowered my hands from both shoulders. “Udah, yes. I'm going through, Mas. Want to grab scissors, afraid of waiting for the same Mbak Diva in the kitchen.”

As soon as Mas Farhan shifted his body, giving me a gap to immediately enter, quickly, I stepped into the room. After picking up the scissors in the nightstand drawer, I then moved on to go back to the kitchen again. But before that I had time to say, “If you want breakfast, go directly to the kitchen, Mas. I don't want to bring food to a room like last night.”

...***...

“Yes Allah, Dik. You're looking for scissors to Germany, huh?” I was so protective of Mbak Diva when I first entered the kitchen, and I could only smile broadly in response. Yeah what else? I was well aware that I had been missing from the kitchen for too long. “Untung was there masmu who helped open the packaging of the meal.”

I sighed heavily while staring at the scissors in my right hand. “Yah, late.”

Ms. Diva giggled, even though she was busy copying the lodeh sauce that turned out to be mature into a fairly large container. “Each him if told to, anyway, don't cover first." I was washing my lips. I was unintentionally too. "Already, don't pout. Let's help Ma'am take this to the dining room, keep breakfast.”

Without saying anything more, I directly helped my sister-in-law. From that time the one who cooked for breakfast was indeed him. Rifka and Weny are out of nowhere.

“Wah, the cuisine is delicious, nih.” Mas Reza entered the dining room, followed by Weny and Wildan behind him.

“Moreover not cooking, yes, Mas? Very nice,” cibirku. If not Mas Reza, I dare say that.

My second brother just chuckled, then took a position to sit on the mat that had been held to eat together. Weny and Wildan followed. We are used to eating in the way of lesehan and roll out the mat as the base. In addition to the place that is not so wide to enter the chairs and dining table, if again the arrival of a large family like this, it is more enjoyable to eat with lesehan and form a circle.

“Do not ledekin your machine, Wa. Poor thing. Rarely, lo, he had a cooking holiday like this,” said Father who also later entered the dining room.

“Indeed the one that cooked all this time Mas Reza, Yah?”

...***...

Hi, I'm updating. Do you know who picked up Mas Farhan's phone? Not, huh? You should read the next chapter. He-he. Let's go get Mas Farhan and Najwa. His Najwa is no longer crying. Pleased, right? Yes dong. Yes kali. Uh.

Don't forget the votes, likes and comments.

Miss you all.

Sumenep, Madura, East Java

Monday, 9 August 2021