She's Maduku

The Twins Maharani part 60

"Sister Gilang?" Rani is shocked when she hears Gilang's voice answering her phone.

"Yes, it's me. What's up?" Gilang answered flatly.

"I want to talk to Isha's sister."

"He's downstairs."

"Then I'll call you back."

"Rani .." call Gilang just before the woman across the street ends the call.

Rani flinched, then Gilang spoke again. "How are you doing now?"

"I? i'm kind. Why?"

"You feeling all right?" ask again.

"Yes, why?"

"Not a bit guilty?"

The question made Rani surprised, not knowing what to answer, Rani could only be silent.

"Why silence? are you happy that you hurt my feelings? happy to see me suffer?"

"Enough, Brother," interrupted Rani cutting Gilang's speech. "Tell kal Isya that I called her." Without warning again, Rani also immediately disconnected the phone.

He wanted to throw the phone he was holding. However, he endured while sighing deeply to neutralize his feelings. Gilang put the phone back in its original place, then rubbed his face rough.

"Why?" aisyah asked after opening the room door, while walking in, carrying a tray containing two glasses of hot sweet tea. He sat down beside Gilang, putting the two glasses on the table.

"Rani," said Gilang.

Aisyah's forehead shriveled. "Why Rani?"

"So he called you" replied Gilang, festively, a glass of sweet tea made by Aisyah, then sipped it slowly.

Aisyah festive that flat object on the table, then checked the latest call. "Aren't you picking up the phone from Rani?" tanya Aisyah looked towards Gilang from the side.

"Yes. I answered it."

"Rese ih," Aisyah grumbled as she got up from her seat, about to call back her sister, while standing on the balcony. While Gilang was still sitting on the sofa, enjoying the warm tea made by his wife.

Elsewhere, Shafiah is currently sitting on a balcony looking forward with a blank look. Zahfran, who had just entered the room, saw his wife there, approached her, hugging from behind.

"What's wrong, honey?"

The surprised Shafiah only glanced at the side, shaking the husband's hand that was coiled around his waist, linking his chin over the wife's shoulder.

"You still angry?"

Shafiah.

"Say something" he asked.

"What am I supposed to say? no talking material."

"About us" he said again.

"About us? it doesn't matter" replied Shafiah smiling cynically.

Knowing the wife's anger, Zahfran twisted his body, staring at the Shafiah's face from the front, while the one he stared at, turning his face the other way.

"I know you're still angry. I'm sorry."

"Why angry?" now Shafiah ventured to look at Zahfran's face.

"Azky," replied Zahfran.

"What's wrong with Azky? do you think I'm thinking about him right now?"

"Here you go, in your mind there is only Azky" Shafiah said, lowering her husband's hand from his shoulder.

He passed in, Zahfran followed him from behind. "I think you're still angry with our discussion the other day."

"No. I don't care." Shafiah opened the hijab, hung it beside the closet, while Zahfran inching up onto the bed, while tidying up the side pillow next to him.

"In that case, quickly lie down beside me! I miss the touch of your hand when I massage my head."

Shafiah shook her head, looking at Zahfran with a different look.

"Darling, what's wrong with you?" ask Zahfran.

Not yet had time to answer, the door of the room was knocked by someone, Shafiah invited him to enter.

"Mother" called Audy at the door.

"Why, Son?"

"Next week the school will hold a study tour to Yogya. Can I come with you?"

"There's a letter of approval?"

"She, Bun. In my bag."

"Then let's go to your room."

"Don't!' prevent Zahfran when Shafiah is about to step away.

"Why, Dad?" ask Audi.

"Tomorrow your mother signed it."

"Why tomorrow? now you can too" said Shafiah by linking her eyebrows up.

"It's night now, dear."

"Mas, just a signature."

"Tomorrow your hands, son," Zahfran told his daughter.

"No. Just now."

"Come, Audi," Shafiah asked, and they left.

Zahfran sighed, feeling how cold the Shafiah's attitude towards him was. After the wife left. Zahfran's phone rang, clearly on the screen of his phone Fatih's name.

"What's he doing?" tanyanya answered the call.

"Assalamualaikum" said Zahfran.

"Waalaikumsalam," said Fatih across the street.

"What's up, Fatih?"

"Tomorrow for a show?"

"No. Why?"

"Can I see you tomorrow at the cafe?"

"For?"

"Is there something we should talk about?"

"Regard?" ask again.

"We, and our children."