My madam, my poison

Undecided

Irwan can't squirm anymore. Her phone actually rang when I called the number I had previously stored on my phone.

"Mas can explain what this means? What did Irwan do?" tanya Khumayra was full of investigation.

"I-i really don't know that woman named Sabrina!"

"Plac!" A pretty loud slap had just landed on Irwan's cheek.

"The evidence is pretty clear. Irwan doesn't have to deny it anymore!" khumayra.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Should I marry the old woman? Answer no!"

"Mas Irwan has dared to do, meaning Mas must dare to take responsibility" said Mayra.

"We do it on the basis of liking. Wrong yourself your mother didn't keep from conceding."

"Like how you say? My mom said you just left her after doing that indecent act" I said.

Irwan smiled blandly.

"You want to be lied to by that itchy woman. She's the one who keeps chasing me and seducing me to fuck her. But I admit, your mother's still pretty nimble at playing in bed. Ha ha ha ha!"

Why are mother and Irwan's statements different? Who am I supposed to trust?

"I want you to take responsibility for your pregnancy!" myrag.

"I only did it once. She could have been pregnant from another man" Irwan said lightly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure your mother has a lot of male friends out there. Maybe he's used to sleeping with them. I'm the one who just did, just did, knows she's pregnant."

"My mom is not that low."

"Your mother is a cheap woman!" exclamation Irwan.

I raised my hand and intended to throw it in Irwan's face but the man brushed it off.

"Tell your mother, before you play, don't forget to take a pregnancy-preventing drug."

"You, …!"

"I'm sorry, I have to get out of town now." Irwan went into his room. Not long after he came out with a large enough bag in his right hand.

"You don't run from responsibility!" my yelling.

"What responsibility? We don't have any deal. So, if anything happens to her, it's beyond my responsibility."

"Mas Irwan! Waitaminute! We're not done talking!" shout Mayra.

"I have to leave now before I miss the bus."

"Mas Irwan! Irwan!"

The man called Mas Irwan ignored Mayra's screams. He sped up his steps and left his home.

"How about this, May?" my many.

"On behalf of Irwan I'm sorry. I didn't expect him to do that low" Mayra said.

"It's not entirely Irwan's fault. My mother was wrong, too."

"May there be a way out of this. Sorry, if I could think you're lying."

"It's okay, May. I get it."

"I'll go home first, Assalamu'alaikum."

"Wa'alaikumsalam, be careful."

I left Mayra's house and then I took a cab that would drive me home.

"I already know who Irwan is. Turns out he's Khumayra's older brother," I told my mother when she arrived at the boarding house.

"Want to?" 

"He does not want to take responsibility for his actions. He's even back out of town."

"Yes, let it go."

"What does Mom mean? Why did you let him take that responsibility off? Never be true what Irwan said, if you do it on the basis of liking. Irwan also said it was Mom who seduced him to have him fuck Mom."

"So, who do you trust more? Someone else, or your own mother?"

"Ehm, I-I, …"

"That's it. Don't discuss this issue anymore. Yoga soon proposed to me and married me. If I'm pregnant, she can't think of anything."

"Mom must remember, as much as storing carcasses, will definitely smell. If Mr. Prayoga knew the child that Mother conceived was not her child, it is not impossible that she would be disappointed and leave Mother."

"If you shut up, he won't know. Unless you want my life to suffer."

Is it true that I kept this secret from Mr Prayoga?

Our conversation came to a halt when someone knocked on our front door.

"Waalaikumsalam," I replied as I opened the door. There was a woman and a man standing in front of me. They may be twenty years old.

"Can I help you, Mom?" my many.

"We want Mbak Zura to sew a kebaya shirt and suit for our wedding. Can, Ma?"

"God can."

"This is the kebaya material and the suit," said the woman as she thrust a paper bag at me.

"Come, come in. I'll take note of the size."

I also recorded the size of both clothes.

"Bak and Mas aren't citizens here, are they?" ask me just after I finished recording their dress size.

"No, Ma'am. I know this place from my brother who yesterday sewed the game here. I see the stitches are neat, which is why I came to this place," he said.

"Oh, yes. Yesterday someone asked me to sew a robe. Thank God he likes the results."

Suddenly the woman looked at Lyra who was in my arms.

"How many months is his grandpa, Ma'am?" tanyakanya.

"Almost four months" I answered. 

"Ehm, her face doesn't look like her mother's. Must be more like his father huh Ma'am?"

"D-g-yes."

I don't know. The more Lyra grew, the more similar her face was to Fabian. From the shape of the eyes, nose, and lips, it almost resembles his father.

"Whose name, honey?"

"Lyra, Auntie."

"What a great name."

"I've recorded the size of the kebaya and its suit. May I know when your wedding is?"

"Friday, Ma'am."

"God willing, Thursday your clothes are ready."

"Oh yeah. How much does it cost to sew, Ma'am?" 

"As far as you guys. I never put a tariff on a customer."

The man standing next to the woman took out a hundred thousand pieces of money from his wallet and gave them to me.

"Sorry, this is too much" I said.

"It's okay, Ma'am. Think of it as a windfall for the Lyra deck. It must not be easy to sew while babysitting a child."

"But, Ma'am, …"

"Already Ma'am. Just take it."

"Thank you, Mom. May Allah make your sustenance."

"Aamiinu. Yeah, we're saying goodbye."

"Good, Ma'am, Mas. God willing Thursday the stitches can already be taken."

"Please excuse me, Assalamu'alaikum."

"Getishalight."

The two brides then left my room.

"Thank God, your presence is good luck to my mother, son," I said as I lightly kissed Lyra who had just fallen asleep in my arms.

Suddenly a distinctive voice came from inside my stomach. Uh! I just remember this morning I haven't put anything in my stomach.

After putting Lyra to sleep in the room, I set my foot toward the dining table. After filling my stomach, I returned to the living room. As long as Lyra is sleeping, I will start working on the stitching of the wedding dress.

Almost an hour passed. Strange, Lyra who usually naps no more than half an hour has not woken up. Maybe he was tired, I thought.

"Where is lyra?" asked the mother who had just come out of her room.

"Lyra's sleeping, Mom."

Mom moved out of the living room and walked into my room.

"God. Zuras! Lyra's not in the room!" his yell.

Seriate…

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