Sharing Love: My Husband Married Without My Permission

146. Proposal Part 1

I've been with Arga to the hospital to see her father. At first I was afraid, shaking this body when I was about to meet him, but Arga reassured me if it was okay.

Thank God, Papa's response was very kind to me. He instead apologized with his old attitude when we were in High School, also apologized if the current state of Arga is different, has Gara. Papa admits that after marrying Arga, he never saw the happy Arga he is today. Moreover, seeing Gara who was very happy and enthusiastic about me. From there I was no longer afraid and worried about meeting Papa. Papa's a pleasant man figure also turned out.

I say if it's okay with the presence of Gara, I'm actually happy with the presence of Gara among us. All the shortcomings that I have told Papa, he also did not mind it, instead entrust Arga and Gara to me, he left me, asked me to guide Gara to give my affection as a mother to her. Accompany and be a good wife to Arga.

'Do not assume that you are a mother, he continued, assuming that Gara is your own biological child. Beloved grandson. I beg.' That's what Papa said at the time.

To be honest, I wanted to cry because I asked. Very deep in his words and I never got from my ex-husband's father.

In addition to meeting Papa I also met Oma, Oma is Gara's grandmother, the mother of Arga. The state of Mother Arga like the previous days, still often sickly because of the age that has stepped old. Papa and Ibu Arga are quite different ages. I estimate their age is more than ten years. Papa Arga married a childless widow whose age was far above him. So that's why when I met Papa Arga, he looked so much younger than Oma. Arga only smiled sadly as he told Oma what she is today.

I called her Oma too, following Gara's call to the old woman. Senile due to a cause of pain that I myself do not know the name of the disease. Although he often forgets Arga, but Oma remembers Gara and also still often calls me Aifa. I have no problem with that call. For me the most important thing is that Oma is happy.

Because, when she found out I was going to be her mother, she was very happy. So also with the caregivers and workers in the house. They all cheered and were happy. Because since then did not allow me to go home if visiting the house, but lucky Arga can overcome the boy, said if after we make a big party of course every night he will be accompanied to sleep by me.

A blissful face bolt radiated at the child and made me happy as well.

***

Thank God, Papa was not in the hospital for long. Arga said a few days ago, Papa will come along with some of his relatives to ask me Mom.

Mother was a little confused, because no one could welcome the arrival of candidates besan and daughter-in-law. Be, Mother called Mamang, Father's Brother in the village. He is clearly more entitled to me, a person who is very entitled to be a guardian in place of the Father.

*

The atmosphere of the house is a little crowded today, to welcome the arrival of guests, Mother has prepared some home-based specialties only. There are no special dishes, but it is enough not to make embarrassment to be served to guests later.

Yu Tarni and Aunt Sari, Mamang's wife help out in the kitchen. Bi Sari and Mamang had just arrived this morning and were helping out in the kitchen. Guests will come in the afternoon. I helped as much as I could, but more just kept quiet because it had just held something, it had already been snatched by Yu Tarni or Bi Sari.

"Already, the bride-to-be is silent in the room. Out there!" tell Bi Sari with a repulsive tone while teasing me. Yu Tarni who was there chuckled, covering her mouth with one hand.

"The new one also wants a proposal, Bi. Not yet ready," I replied embarrassedly.

"Yes, it will be in his house. She is already a bride. Just take a break, mascara, stretch, take a clean shower, let it smell!" Bi Sari teased me again.

The evening came, after the completion of the Maghrib prayer time I immediately prepared. The clothes that Arga sent me yesterday I wore, the beautiful embroidery was plentiful on the cloth. Right in my body, matching the big hijab that's covering my head right now.

I heard some vehicles coming and parked in front of the house. The sound of knocking on the door was heard very clearly even though I was inside the room. My chest pounded violently, cold sweat started to pester on my forehead, making it sticky.

Now it sounded from the living room as someone else spoke. I heard it carefully, occasionally recognizing if it was the voice of Arga, Mr. Rt, or Mamang, the others I could not guess. Laughter, then back to serious I listen from behind the door.

Aaaahhh, what should I do now?