My Beloved Wife Mr. Pram

Freya, I'm sorry

Freya moved out that night, too. He tidied up the clothes he had brought when he had just moved into the house. There was not a single item given Pramudya Antasena that he packed. He does not want. Although he was poor and had nothing, he would not let the rest of his pride be trampled on and made into ridicule by the damn rich man.

 Ruth stood at the door crying. He had tried to persuade and restrain Freya, but the girl was silent and deaf, not wanting to listen to anyone's words. All the insults that came out of her husband's mouth .. Errata, the ex-husband, had made her heart hollow. He did not need more humiliation by staying inside the house.

Not half an hour later, Freya had already dragged an old suitcase filled with her belongings across a courtyard that was almost the size of a football field. He did not want to wait at the door of the house, did not want to stay longer under the same roof as Pramudya Antasena.

Even Mr. Anton who pleaded was not able to change Freya's stance. The old maid stood at the door with Ruth, staring at the madam's departure with a teary face. If only Old Man were still around, maybe something like this wouldn't happen. It made her even sadder and could not help her sobs.

From upstairs, Pramudya stands by the window, watching Freya leave from the darkness. He knew what he said and did had hurt the girl, but there was no other way. He knows how hard Freya's head is.

If he explained the truth, no matter what he said, Freya would definitely insist on staying with him. He could not take the risk, even if it was that small. For now, it can only be like this. He swore he would make up for it when he turned things around.

The nearly exhausted cigarette stung Pramudya's index finger, bringing him back from a long daydream.

Down there, his wife's silhouette was no longer visible. He picked up the phone and sent a message to the number in the emergency contact.

[Observations Madam. Report everything to me regularly]

In front of the gate of the Antasena residence, Freya endlessly cursed and cursed the man she loved half to death.

Yes, Freya realized she not only liked Pramudya Antasena, but had fallen in love with the man. The love that made the pain in his chest multiply. Although he had gotten such a despicable treatment, he still could not immediately erase his love for the jerk.

“Pramudya, you bastard ... truly a true bastard.” Freya choked, kneeling by the roadside, cupped her face with her hands and gasped.

It was so painful that he could barely hold it anymore.

What harm?

What mistake has he made that deserves this cruel treatment?

His memory goes back to the honeymoon period on the Island of the Gods. Is it all a show? From the beginning the man just wanted to play himself?

Freya curled up like a ball. His heart was like it was being uprooted from its place, leaving a huge gaping hole.

Idiotically.

The ugly frog, hoping to become Cinderella, was eventually thrown back into the muddy puddle.

Freya looked up, staring at the gloomy sky without stars. That night was cloudy. Dark clouds shaded around the moon that were not perfectly round.

From a distance, a car approached. The light flashed toward Freya.

The girl stood up, watching the license plate as the car approached. He dragged the suitcase to the side of the road. It was the car he ordered.

“Goodnight, right with Miss Freya?” greet the middle-aged driver.

“Ya.”

Freya nodded and opened the car door, stuffing her not-so-big suitcase first before coming in and sitting in the passenger seat.

“Ke Hotel Pomegranate, yes?”

“Iya, sir,” Freya answered while shrinking the tip of her nose. He cleared his throat twice to stabilize his hoarse-sounding and stinging voice.

“Good.” The driver turned the wheel, turned around and followed the directions of the maps. The man only took a quick glance from the glass above the dashboard, then refocused himself onto the street in front of him.

Freya sighed and leaned back in the chair. Thankfully, the driver did not ask much. He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. He closed his eyes, which were already swollen from crying too much.

It's late at night. He had no destination, so he could only choose the closest and cheapest inn near Lisa's home address. He has no family, no one. Lisa's name just came to light when she was in a state of turmoil.

Tomorrow he will ask his good friend for help to find cheap costs. Maybe its location near the campus, or near the cafe. At this time his brain could not be worked together. I hope tomorrow everything is better. Hope so.

On the second floor of the Antasena residence, Pramudya's phone shook. There's an incoming message, it appears in the pop-u**p of his phone screen.

[The lady's in the car. I will follow him from far away]

Her boyfriend restores her hair and stares in the distance. His wife is gone. The girl left with heartache and full of bitterness. His jaw tightened and his fingers clenched tightly. The ones who made him forced to do all this, they would definitely get a reply many times more painful.

Tommy, Dance, Wijaya Family, also Yoga Pratama.

Yoga Pratama ...

Remembering the name made Pramudya's forehead wrinkle deep. Although he hated the snot boy so much, but he still owed him a favor. Maybe he'll give a little leniency to the damn boy .. maybe .. he doesn't want to promise anything for now. Just look at how it will develop in the future.

Pramudya turned around and walked out of his room, approaching the room at the opposite end of the hall, the room that had been used by his little wife, his dearly beloved wife. If not for fear of loss, he would not have done something like this either.

Call yourself a coward. Call himself a bastard. He doesn't mind. As long as Freya was fine, she did not mind at all.

The man pushed the door very slowly, staring at the silence that made his heart feel dull.

There was no longer a smile as bright as the sunlight that greeted him. No more a pair of clear eyes staring at him lovingly.

Geligi Pramudya clashed, causing a rumbling sound that felt pained. He stepped to the side of the bed, sat down slowly, shifted to the top of the mattress, then laid his body there.

The scent she loved so much was still left on the pillow. He pulled out a blanket and covered half of his body. That distinctive aroma was seeping deeper and deeper, tickling his sense of smell and memory.

The warm feeling of his wife's body seemed to be left in his palm.

Pramudya closed his eyes, letting his mind wander back into the long nights when his wife curled up comfortably in his arms, when his days were so lively and they were so happy.

“Freya, forgive me ..”