Love From Facebook

Chapter 60

Wearing jeans and a casual tunic shirt, Nayla is now in the elevator to get down to the ground floor. Slowly, the elevator came down and stopped on the second floor. The door opened and an Indian man entered alone.

As soon as she saw it, Nayla retreated to the corner. Nayla was scared. There were only two of them in the elevator. The elevator goes down. Nayla lowered her head, she did not dare to look at the man standing on equal footing with her.

“Are you okay?” ask the man.

“Hah?” Nayla looked up at his face.

Seen clearly frightened on Nayla's face, “calm, I'm not a bad man.” Said the man.

Nayla nodded, she brushed off her smile in a forced manner. Again, the man asked where Nayla was from.

“Indonesia.” Nayla Answers.

The elevator door reached the ground floor, Nayla came out without saying a word. He did not care when the man shouted to him as miss.

Nayla ran, towards the bakery not far from her sight.

“I forgot to ask her name. Next time I see him again, I'll ask.” Yes, the man regretted not asking the girl's name.

The man sees Nayla going into a store, wanting to catch up with her, but he has other things to do.

Nayla rushed home after she finished buying the materials she needed. He walked with the cloth bag he was holding in his left hand. Entering the elevator, he pressed the number seven— button because his apartment was on the floor.

The door was almost perfectly closed, but there was one leg blocking the elevator door. Nayla saw him, a man came in and threw a smile at him.

“Hi, we meet again.”

Nayla smiles stiffly, “hi, too,” replies.

Yes, the same guy.

Her body is tiny, she looks so sweet with that head covering.—hijab. Inner of the man.

Nayla was a little uncomfortable with the man. The man just kept looking at him. Expect the elevator to slide as fast as possible so that he does not have to be with the man in the same elevator.

His two hands squeezed the rope of the shopping bag, Nayla did not dare to raise her head. Until a voice surprised him who was suddenly looking at the man who was asking on what floor he lived.

A stroke of luck, the elevator stopped on the second floor where the man was staying. So Nayla does not need to answer that question. The man was quiet, clasping his smile to Nayla. After the elevator door closed and walked up again, Nayla stroked her chest, feeling relieved.

“How-to maksa out, definitely Fahad ngomel daritadi.” Nayla murmured softly.

***

After putting the grocery bag on the kitchen table, Nayla went into the room to change her clothes with casual clothes first before making a cake. Take out the groceries one by one and prepare the container he needs.

His phone rang, Fahad's name was on it. Soon he received the call after washing his hands. Like her guess, her husband must be worried about her.

Nayla insists that she is fine, nothing less than her. Seeing that the time was getting late, Nayla ended her call for the cake to be cooked when her husband came home later.

Nayla's phone rang again as she poured the flour. Excitedly, Nayla receives a video call from Andi. His face sparkled happily looking at the face of the sister he missed. The same, Andi was no less happy.

Andi mocked Nayla as soon as she found out that her sister was making a cake. “Later the oven can explode, loh, Mbak.”

Not afraid, Nayla actually felt more confident to make a cake. “Mbak can, really, make a cake, Mbak Indah who is taught.” Nayla defended herself.

“Masa?” Andi doesn't believe it. “When?”

“Yes, anyway ever taught Beautiful Mbak.” Nayla replied with a hand that remained busy making the cake batter.

Andi disconnects from Nayla because she gets another call.

***

The sky is dark. The employees have been home since. However, unlike Fahad, he was still busy in his room.

“Pak Fahad is still not home, sir,” replied Alina while looking at the door of Fahad's room.

Sahil tells Alina to go home. Though a little afraid that Fahad will scold him, Sahil forces Alina to go home soon. “Go home, let me do the same Fahad. He won't be angry.”

Alina goes home, and Sahil enters Fahad's room. As usual, he entered without knocking on the door first. “Fahad Malik Khan,” his booming voice filled the room.

Fahad has memorized Sahil's behavior, he also remains busy with his folding computer without turning his eyes toward Sahil at all.

“Job until morning, if you need not go home, just sleep in the office. Let your wife run away and go back to Indonesia.” Sahil sits in the front seat of Fahad's desk.

“Oh, shit!” Fahad cursed himself. “I forgot,” turned off his laptop, stood up and took the suit he had attached to the back of his work chair. “Why hasn't Nayla called?” Fahad picked up his phone lying on the table. In a hurry he left the room.

“Fahad, stop.”

Fahad stopped his steps, he turned around, “what is it? I'm good quick home, Nayla waits—”

“This, take me home first.” Sahil throws car keys at Fahad.

Fahad's forehead creased deeply, he saw the car keys that were already in his hand. “I'm in a hurry, Sahil, go home by yourself.”

“You forgot again? That's your car, take it home, but before you take me home, I don't want to take a taxi or bus.” Sahil goes ahead of Fahad.

“I forgot again.” Fahad smiled to himself.

***

Drove his car at a fairly high speed—Fahad splitting the night streets of the Indian capital. Many times he saw the clock curled around his wrist, Fahad kept swearing at him who forgot that he was no longer a widower.

There was a wife waiting for him to come home, who was waiting for him to have dinner together. The custom in India is not completely gone. Working late into the night without concern for his own health.

Fahad first calls Nayla that she is already in the apartment parking lot. Accelerate his footsteps, enter the elevator and then press the number seven button.

Nayla sat on the living room couch, standing up after hearing the doorbell. Welcoming her husband with a sweet smile, Nayla took Fahad's suit in her hand.

“Sorry, Honey, I got a lot of work.”

Little lie. There is no way Fahad said that he forgot that there was a wife waiting for him to come home from work. He didn't want to hurt Nayla's feelings.

“Iya,” walks together towards their room, Nayla opens the closet, about to pick up a change of clothes for her husband. “What tea do you want coffee?” Nayla asked.

“No need, honey, out of the shower we go out. You change clothes first.” Fahad approached Nayla, touching the top of her head gently. “We had dinner outside, you haven't eaten, right?” ask Fahad.

“Udah,” Reply Nayla.

“Eat what? You out on your own again?” cerca Fahad's.

“Nggak.” Nayla nodded quickly. “I ate cake, I made chocolate cupcake.”

Fahad scooped his face violently, again he forgot that his wife had made a cake. It was definitely a cake Nayla made for herself, her husband.

Closer, Fahad catches Nayla's face with both palms. He looked at the face of the woman who had been waiting all day for him to come home from work, but he foolishly forgot his married status.

“Sorry, today I forgot that ...,”

“What?” nayla asked because Fahad did not continue.

“I forgot that I married again, I forgot that there was a wife waiting for me. Sorry, Darling.” Fahad doesn't want to lie any further. It would be more painful if his wife knew his lie than anyone else.

Nayla is just an ordinary human being, she also feels disappointed to hear the words Fahad—who forgets that there is a wife waiting for her at home. Nayla tried to understand, she did not want to be angry, she knew that her husband's work was a lot of neglected. Nothing else and not all of it because of him, his wife.

Nayla brushed off a smile that instantly calmed Fahad's heart. “Yes, it's okay. Kan, I've only been here a day. Tomorrow-tomorrow if you forget again, I do not guarantee if you are not angry.”

***