My madam, my poison

Crack

At this time my household is shaky, like a ship that is being hit by such a big wave. Either the ship will be shipwrecked or will continue to sail with a terrible hit.

CHAPTER 1

"Mas wants to marry Karmila, sister."

A strand of that sentence slid out of Fabian's mouth. The man who married me for over ten years in between our dinners.

My appetite suddenly disappeared. The food that had just passed through my esophagus also felt so hard to swallow. I grabbed a glass of water in front of me and then took a sip.

"What kind of joke is this?" Even though my chest rumbled violently, apparently I could still chuckle. Pretend amused to be exact.

"Serious mas!" The most handsome man in my eyes looked at me sharply.

I don't know why Lyra, our only child in my arms, suddenly woke up and cried. I think the baby who hasn't even been able to lift his own head is just thirsty. I opened the top two buttons of the shirt I was wearing and tried to give it my milk. The only source of life for him right now. However, Lyra refused.

"We continue to talk in the room. Looks like Lyra wants to suckle while lying down."

I got out of my seat and moved my feet towards the room.

Fifteen minutes later Lyra fell asleep. I hope Fabian catches up with us in the room soon. I don't know why he didn't come. After shrinking the AC temperature, I came out of my room and approached Fabian who had not yet moved from the dining room.

I wonder, usually the man only takes no more than ten minutes to empty the contents of his plate. But tonight he doesn't seem to have any taste.

"Why isn't the food eaten, Mom?" my many.

That night I cooked the capcay with the peanut sauce. The food that must be served every day at the dinner table at dinner. After more than ten years of being his life companion, of course I memorized outside the head of food or whatever he liked or vice versa.

Mas Fabian just put down his spoon as if reluctant to continue his dinner.

"Is my cooking too salty, Mom?" 

I pretended to be curious even though I knew it wasn't that thing that made him lose his taste. I cooked the dish with the same amount of spices every day. It is impossible if my cooking is salty or sweet.

"Dik, .." Mas Fabian looked me in the eye. I could see the anxiety at 

in the look of his eyes.

"Yes, Mum." 

I hope Fabian's people will shift the subject. About his work, for example. Or discuss political news that is heating up lately.

"Mas asked permission to marry Karmila."

My guess this time missed. Fabian turned out to be back to talk to me about a woman named Karmila who even just heard tonight.

"Who's Karmila, Mom? Why did she suddenly want to marry him?" my question is full of search.

"Carmilla is a widow."

I was surprised to hear an answer from him. How could my pious and patient husband suddenly ask permission to remarry a widow.

I blinked my eyes repeatedly so that the clear circles that began to spread in both eyeballs did not spill.

"Mas wants to marry a widow?" ask me with a voice that starts to shake.

Fabian nodded his head.

I fell silent and lowered my face. Why was Fabian that big deal to me? I realized I couldn't be the perfect wife for her. However, which woman will say yes when her husband asks permission to double?

"God willing, I will be fair to you."

"Polygamy is allowed in our religion" he said.

The dail was apparently the justification for his decision to remarry. I know Fabian knows enough about religion. Before completing his education at an Islamic university, he had studied religion in a boarding school that is quite famous in his hometown.

I realized, my knowledge of religion is still fairly shallow. Before I got married to Fabian, I was just a woman who was even so far from my Lord. Since the destruction of my parents' business, my life has been in no direction. He had a stroke and died a few months later. While my mom went somewhere. I don't know where my two siblings are either. Brother Darren and sister Maureen. They left the house shortly after our father died.

The religion of Islam is on my identity card. However, I hardly ever carry out what His commandments are. I've even been plunged into a black valley.

Fabian was sent by God to lead me back to the path of truth. From the way I dress that always shows the illegitimate part of the opposite sex, now I can wear hijab and shar'i clothes.

"Why are you quiet, brother?" ask Fabian who soberly disperse my daydream.

"I know our religion does not forbid a man to have more than a wife. But I'm sorry. Until whenever I won't allow Mas to marry again" I said.

"You should know, brother. Married to Karmila not merely out of desire or lust."

"Want to?"

"Mas.mas has made a terrible mistake."

"What's the big mistake, Mom?" I looked back at him full of search.

"Three months ago a car hit a man to death. The man was Karmila's husband" Fabian said.

"Comeofan!" I closed my mouth with one of my hands.

"Before he died, the man had the will to take care of his wife."

That reason didn't change my decision. There will be no honey in my marriage.

"I'm sorry again. I'm not allowing you to get married!" my firmness.

"Mas has promised to carry out the last will of Karmila's husband."

"If Mas wants to stay married to Karmila, I'd better step down" I said.

"Mas love you, Sister. Also our daughter, Lyra."

"If you love me, you will never marry another woman!" my firmness.

"Please understand."

I got out of my seat intending to leave the dining table but suddenly Fabian pulled my hand.

"Mas hasn't finished talking yet" he said.

"Mas just has to choose, me and Lyra or Karmila." I gently brushed off Fabian's hand before finally entering the room.

I went into the room and hugged Lyra who was fast asleep. Warm circles that had spread in my eyeballs had finally spilled.

Not long ago the door creaked. I moved the sleeping position of my little angel who had felt near the wall of the room, to the middle. I purposely made it a partition so Fabian wouldn't touch me one bit tonight. 

"Dik, .." Mas Fabian called me. I don't know what he wants to talk about again. But I try to be indifferent. I turned my back and faced the wall of the room. For the first time after marriage, we slept without a good night or a gentle kiss on my forehead. I let the warm water drip and wet my pillow.

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