Love From Facebook

Chapter 98

Almost a month after Nayla and Fahad forgot about everything that happened in Kashmir, they both lived happily without any talk of a second marriage from Fahad. Only the two of them did not discuss. However, Ammi continues to discuss it with Nayla. It reminds her that Fahad will still be married to Benazir. Nayla remembers, Nayla knew her husband would marry again. Nayla still can not make her heart sincere, she does not want to be combined. I will never be ready and willing.

Ammi called, ordering Fahad to go to Kashmir with Yasmin. Not that Fahad does not want to, he feels that he is still in New Delhi, his work is still very much. It would be unethical to leave the office too often.

Nayla persuades Fahad, repeatedly forcing her husband to go to Kashmir. “Go, Fahad, pity Ammi.” Sitting in bed, Nayla has been talking about Kashmir. Makes Fahad a little angry, but all that he held ... Fahad knew that Nayla had to persuade him to go to Kashmir. “Fahad, go, yes?”

Staring at his wife's two beads, a split second away, Fahad kissed her on Nayla's lips gently. He pulled the nape of his wife to get closer. Fahad almost lost control, if only his wife had not bitten his lips. “Iya, I'm going to Kashmir. Already, right?” Fahad tidied up some of Nayla's hair that covered her forehead. “Lusa I went to Kashmir, you—”

“Don't the day after, tomorrow only!” nayla Tuas.

Fahad raised one eyebrow, “kok, you are so excited? Wh why? You on the phone Ammi?”

Nayla shakes. He lies. Ammi did call him, asking him to persuade Fahad to go to Kashmir immediately. A clear thread from the corner of Nayla's eyes always trickled every time she ended the call with Ammi. Asking her husband to go to Kashmir, it was definitely about Fahad's second marriage. Whose wife does not cry with her own hands, she must force her husband to enter the gate of another marriage.

Fahad remained in his stance, the day after he went to Kashmir, with Yasmin. “What are you doing, alone here?”

“Iya. I've been memorizing the area here, really. I also dare to go everywhere myself. The important thing is I don't go out at night, do I?”

Fahad nodded, his wife's smile rubbing against him. Returning to continue his kissing activity that had stopped earlier, Fahad buried the kiss deeper and more demanding. Until a while later, both bodies were full of sweat that marked the end of the night's struggle.The two were already under the blanket, Fahad made his arm as a pillow for Nayla. Kissing his wife's old forehead, then holding her in love.

***

It has been two days since Fahad and Yasmin left for Kashmir. During that time, Nayla remained at home. He enjoys his time alone, exchanging messages and voices, with Andi. Sanju and Sahil take her out, but Nayla refuses, wanting to calm herself down. Forgetting everything that happened.

Wearing a maroon-colored pasmina, Nayla had been in vain to come out. He planned to go to a shopping mall, alone. He asked Fahad for permission. Her husband let her go and asked her not to come home too late. Standing in the apartment lobby, Nayla waits for the taxi she ordered. Fahad said it would be safer to use an online taxi service.

“Mother Nayla?” greet Anand. He stood next to the wife of his boss while she brushed off his smile.

“Anand, call Nayla only. Don't mom.”

“But you are his wife Mr. Fahad, where can I call your name only.”

Nayla chuckles, “ini is not in the office, just call name.”

Anand nodded in understanding. The man buried his interest in Nayla. Wanting to get to know more closely, but when he found out that the simple woman was the wife of his superior, Anand immediately retreated. Lucky, still limited interest.

“Nak work?” ask Nayla.

“My book is coming, so I'm one day permission.” Anand answered.

Nayla leaves first when the taxi she ordered has arrived. He advised the driver to drive at a normal speed limit. Taxi cars break the busy streets of the Indian capital. As usual, the sound of the horn became the accompaniment music throughout his journey. Nayla began to understand, free to protest, everyone has their own style in driving.

Give me some money while saying thank you. Nayla came down, with a definite step she entered a minimarket and went straight to the soap-soap shelf. Looking for a brand of soap that her husband used to use, put a bottle of shampoo into the basket he brought. Sometimes, Fahad takes him to the market on Sundays. However, because her husband was in Kashmir, Nayla did not dare to go to the market alone. Her husband also did not allow.

Minimarket is not too crowded, some people prefer to shop to the market or store near their home. Nayla wasn't. He does not like to shop at the market. In Indonesia, he rarely went to the market. Nayla prefers to buy vegetables and other necessities in stores near the house. The reason is, a little bit of goods purchased .. it is enough to help the store owner—tanggung—tolahkan his children. Also, Nayla cannot control herself when in the market. At home, he intended to buy only what he needed. But once on the market, his eyes were tempted when he saw the number of unique kitchen items. As a result, he came home with items that he really did not need.

***

“Mrs.” The voice of a faint woman was heard in Nayla's ears. Slowly he opened his eyes, adjusting the biases of the light that greeted him. “Mistress, is it still dizzy?”

Nayla could recognize this woman from the white coat that was attached to her body. A doctor. Nayla replied with a headband, she tried to sit down with the help of the doctor. Leads him to walk and sit in the patient's chair—doctor's work desk. There was a beautiful woman there who smiled at him. It was the woman who helped him when he suddenly collapsed in the minimarket, the doctor told Nayla.

“Sorry, may I know your name?” ask the doctor.

“I Nayla.”

The doctor nodded, smiling. “If I may know, you are on vacation or do you live here?”

Nayla says that she is married to an Indian citizen. He has not lived in India for two years, therefore Nayla has not obtained the OCI (Overseas Citizenship of India) book. A book is similar to a passport, where a foreign citizen can register an OCI after two years of marriage with an Indian citizen. Some people find it difficult to manage OCI, the number of conditions and procedures become obstacles in each card management.

The card can be used for entry into India easily and without extending the visa permit. Foreign citizens still cannot have the power to participate in elections—buy shares, buy land, establish a company, or so forth. However, with the card, the child of the mix marriage can legally obtain inheritance rights under the laws of India.

Nayla's passport was requested by a doctor, to fill in the required data. Not to forget, Nayla also handed over her marriage certificate, as proof that she was legally married to one of the Indian citizens.

“Fahad Malik Khan, from Srinagar, Kashmir.” The doctor said he returned Nayla's passport and marriage certificate. It provides vitamins and also dates of content control.

“That's to say, Doc?” confused Nayla after hearing the doctor tell her to check her content for another month.

Doctor Shraddha smiled knot. “Iya, Mrs Khan, your content has reached the age of four weeks.”

Flowers bloomed in Nayla's heart, the person she was waiting for finally came as well. A cold wind burst into his chest. However, before long, her smile began to fade as her memories replayed about her husband's second marriage.

Whatisthis? What omens? I should how?

Nayla, accompanied by the woman who helped and took her to the hospital, came out of the check room together. The woman asked about Nayla. “Sorry, can we chat for a while?”

Nayla said she wanted to thank the woman who helped her. If there was no such woman, somehow her fate was earlier. “I brought the car, we to the cafe near here only, how?”

“If I don't bother you anymore, okay-okay.” Nayla.

“No, Nayla. There's something I want to say.” Open the car door, drive away from the hospital area.

“Sorry, I don't know your name yet.”

The woman behind the wheel smiled faintly, turning briefly towards Nayla who was also smiling at him. “My name is Mahira.”

***