Lamar's fault
Jealousy
I am grateful to be married to Mas Hasan. Allah is All-Knowing of what I need. Many of the men I rejected were of Kiai or santri descent. I didn't expect Mas Hasan to be sultan's descendant because I knew him very simply.
"Mas, so go to Mom's house?" my many.
"You're still sick, aren't you? Can walk?" I am ashamed of my husband's question.
"And I'm sick because of you Mas" I protested.
"Well, I'll carry it to Mamah's place" my husband said.
What the fuck, I'm carried to Mamah in-laws' place. I'll be ashamed, to be kept where my face is.
"I'm ready to go to Mamah's house." I put my foot in the dresser. Mas Hasan watched my path.
"Mas, don't pay attention to my path like that. I'm fine the way." I smiled at my husband.
After I finished changing my clothes, Mas Hasan and I went straight to my mother-in-law's house. I sat next to Mas Hasan, suddenly he approached me, his face was already very close to mine. My heart skipped a beat, this morning he kept kissing me.
"Why would you like to do something?" I asked Mas Hasan.
"You're a habit baby, you don't have your seat belt on" said Mas Hasan smiling at me.
Ah my face was red, I thought he wanted to kiss me but it turns out he put a seatbelt on. Unfortunately, I had misunderstood him. Mas Hasan started to run his car, occasionally I glanced at Mas Hasan who was driving.
"Why does my darling glance at me? I know my face is handsome." Mas Hasan was very confident sometimes.
"Who glanced at you anyway Mas, I saw your eyes there's something." I pointed with my index finger towards Mas Hasan's eyes.
"What's in my eyes? There's dirt well, clean up baby," pinta mas Hasan.
"Okay, I can't clean up. You see, in your eyes there is me" I replied with a smile.
"Have you been a pussy." Mas Hasan pinched my cheek.
It did not feel like we had reached my mother-in-law's house. My mother-in-law loves me very much, I am grateful to have a very good mother-in-law, unlike in soap operas whose in-laws do not like her ex.
My husband immediately came down and opened the car door, he immediately took my hand.
"Assalamu'alaikum." My husband and I said hello.
"Getishalight." My mother-in-law hugged me.
"That was until last night, huh?" ask mama.
"Yes Mah, we're up until night. Thank you for the gift of the house. I didn't expect Mamah to give me a big house" I said.
"Do you like the house?" ask mama.
"Like Mah" I replied.
Brother Heelwa came, he immediately approached me and invited me to his room. This brother-in-law looks beautiful, has dimples if smiling is really sweet. In addition, the face of Turkish descent is very visible. Brother Heelwa taught me to use make up.
"Emi, you try this. It seems to be suitable for your skin." Brother Heelwa gives her make up tools.
"Sister, I don't usually use makeup." I very rarely wear makeup, most if there is an important event.
"Let Hasan love you more Emi" said Brother Heelwa.
"I'm ashamed Brother, make up like this," I said. Heelwa just kept putting make up on my face.
"Let's see the mirror, you're so beautiful Emi" said Heelwa.
I came out of Brother Heelwa's room, it wouldn't be nice if I didn't help my mother-in-law cook. When I approached Mama, she was very surprised to see me.
"God is God you are so beautiful Emi, why are you going to the kitchen?" ask Mamah.
"You help mamah, this is Brother Heelwa who makes up me Mah. I'm embarrassed to make up like this" I said.
"You're beautiful Emi. You are basically beautiful." My mother-in-law caressed my head.
"You're the same Hasan, Mamah can solve this on your own." My mother-in-law insisted that I not help her in the kitchen. I had to find my husband, Mamah said in the living room. I went there, to get to him. My steps stopped when I saw Mas Hasan was with a woman and they were laughing. There was a burst of jealousy, they looked very familiar. The woman was wearing a hijab and her face was sweet.
"Dear, here." Mas Hasan looked at me and told me to approach him. I approached my husband.
"You're beautiful, baby, you know her. He is Gendis" said Mas Hasan. I do remember him but I don't know if my heart is jealous given Hasan's familiarity with Gendis.
"You're Emi well, you're not married to me and mama" said Gendis.
"I married Emi when she was in a coma, the only simple reception was done in Cirebon." Mas Hasan took my hand. I don't know if she knows I'm jealous. I just smiled sweetly at Gendis.
"I heard from Kenzo that Emi was in an accident?" ask Gendis.
"God has written the destiny of every man. I was in an accident 2 days before the application day, but I am grateful. The day I applied, I was married to Mas Hasan" I said.
"Your age is different 4 years well, Emi is older than Hasan." Gendis' words made me a little angry.
"U. S. Khodijah when he was 40 was married to the Prophet who was then 25 years old. Different 4 years there is no problem for us" I replied.
"Yes, you still look young and beautiful. I know your age difference because you and I are little friends" Gendis said.
I just nodded and smiled at Gendis.
"I met aunt Bilah first well, there's a deposit from mama." Gendis stood up and walked to meet my mother-in-law.
After Gendis got away from us, I said to my husband.
"Mas, what the hell are you laughing off like Gendis," I said protest.
"You jealous? Gendis when the baby Mamah is taking care of, so we grow up together." My husband defended himself.
"But you're not her mahram, you can't be alone like that. Sitting close. Try if I'm like that you must be angry right," I said a bit emotionally.
My husband hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.
"Mas, shame. If you look at your family. Just play nyosor," I protested.
"Let's be adem dear, don't nag, don't be jealous of Brother Gendis. I consider Kak Gendis like Kak Heelwa" he said.
"Ndak the same Mas, Brother Heelwa blooded with you but Gendis ndak." I stood up and put my feet in my husband's room. Mas Hasan followed me from behind. When I entered the room, Mas Hasan locked the door.
"Mas, why is the door locked?" my many.
"I want to cool off your jealousy." Mas Hasan directly pressed his lips against mine. Ah he drives me crazy with his touches.
Seriate
