Tengil Tuan Tuan Presdir's

53. I'm Not Aisha

The woman in front of Habibie turned her head to the right to the left, she also looked back because Habibie had just mentioned another woman's name. Humaira thought there was someone other than her there, but there was none.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm Humaira, not Ayesha."

Habibie jerks. The man shook his head a few times. He hoped it was just a hallucination, but the woman remained the same, she was so similar to his late wife, Aisyah.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong" Habibie said. The man invited Humaira to sit in front of him. Initially Humaira refused, she felt it was inappropriate to be too close to the big Boss there. However, when Habibie asked for a second time, Humaira could not resist anymore.

"So what do you want to say?"

The sentence that came out of Habibie's mouth was out of sync with his initial intention. Habibie should have scolded Humaira like he had promised before. Boro-boro was scolded, the man looked at Humaira without ever turning away. Habibie is like seeing a woman who he had long missed.

Not much different from the woman in front of him. One thing Humaira did not have was a mole on her chin, because Aisyah's late house used to have it on her chin.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong, sir. Please don't fire me, I promise I won't repeat my mistakes again. My mother and sisters need me. Please don't fire me."

There was no answer, Habibie was silent, on the other hand there was Kiara, he had even promised himself that he would teach a lesson to the person who had hurt him. However, hearing Humaira's plea as well as her grievances about her family, Habibie became disinclined and unwell.

"Alright, you can still work here, but remember one thing, Humaira. Don't make the same mistake."

"MasyaAllah, Alhamdulillah .. Thank you, sir. I promise I won't repeat my mistakes again. I'm really sorry, sir. I'm sorry."

Habibie smiled, the man again looked at Humaira without blinking, for some reason he felt that this Humaira was too similar to Aisyah. That woman's smile, even her body gesture. Humaira was no prettier than Kiara, but this woman had something else that Habibie himself did not know what was.

Without them noticing, someone outside the room clenched both hands. Gibran squeezed Humaira's CV still with his back against one of the doors. The squeaking from the man's gums sounded. Gibran was late, he was one step late from Ali, if only he had directly fired Humaira, the woman would not have met with Habibie.

"Fuck you, brother. You promised to make Kak Kiara happy, why even be kayak gini."

Gibran throws Humaira's CV into the garbage can, and he must figure out a way to keep Habibie away from Humaira so that the bastard can no longer make Kiara cry.

** **

At night, the figure of the woman who feared Gibran was prostrating with a very long prostration. The woman did not wake up again, but after a few minutes, Kiara finished her prayer. The woman's hand turned upwards. Kiara begged for mercy, humbling herself to her lowest.

In her do'a-do'a, Kiara never asks for herself, she always puts her husband first and also the people she cares for. Kiara realized, in her daily mouth and behavior of the woman is still not good, it could be that she likes to hurt her husband and brother without him knowing.

"Oh my God, I look after my husband when he is in my sight. However, when my husband is not within reach, I am opposite him to you, take care of the husband of the servant lest he experience anything bad, keep my husband out of all danger also radiate all his affairs. Aamiin, God."

Finished with his prayer, Kiara saw the clock on the nightstand already showing ten o'clock at night. She was waiting for the return of her husband, Habibie did not come, the man reneged on the promise.

** **

It was almost morning, the door of the room opened very slowly. The figure of a handsome man with a tangled look entered slowly. Habibie circulated his gaze, the man immediately smiled when he saw his wife sleeping on the sofa by the window. Habibie took off the tie that wrapped around his neck, the man closed the curtains and took the wife, moving the beautiful wife onto the bed.

"Mas Abie ...."

The woman squirms, Habibi, who only wants to move Kiara, comes into the blanket.

The woman squirmed slowly. "Mas Abie just got home? What time is it, Mom?" Kiara's raucous voice sounded very melodious in Habibie's ears.

"Hour three, honey. Sleep again."

"deliver ... Kiara likes the smell of Mas Abie."

Kiara's hand slipped into her husband's waist, hiding his face in the husband's chest. This aroma is always a opium for Kiara, this fragrance is too typical, even the perfume smell alone is not stinging, gently soothing.

"Mas Abieee~~~!"

"Hmm."

"Kiara loves Mas Abie. I'm so happy, Mas Abi also love Kiara?"

The man was stunned. His tongue was suddenly twisted, Habibie swore inwardly at himself after hearing the sentence from his wife's mouth. Kiara has been trying to get better, even Habibie often heard the words love and affection. However, what he has done. Habibie still expects Aisyah, a woman he has not been happy to always come as if to hold her accountable. Regardless of what God planned, Habibie did not know why another figure similar to Aisyah appeared all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry, Kiara. I'm sorry." Habibie's voice sounded very soft, he hugged Kiara tighter, peeping the woman's forehead with a deep sense of guilt. Conscious or not, a single tear fell from the corner of the man's eyes, he was a jerk right? But what could he do?

All the way Habibie has done, he has tried to take his first wife, but why .. why when everything goes according to his wishes, just arrived in the middle of the road, but why, new exams appear without their prediction.

"Bet me out of that feeling of unworthiness, O God. I just want to love my wife, don't make the past break our household. I love my wife."

Hmmm .. lie if Habibie is not disturbed by the figure of Humaira, a woman who resembles his first wife that makes Habibie's mind chaotic. He could not get home in time just because he felt guilty to the woman in his arms.

"I love you too, Kiara. Please, no matter what happens, never leave me. I'm sorry."

....

Desperate because the pressure arising from our own feelings is a very painful thing, we want the problem to escape, disappear for good. At the same time, however, those stupid feelings and thoughts keep coming to eat away at our beliefs in ourselves, angry at others might not be too heavy, but angry at ourselves? How long can we survive? When will you forgive all the mistakes you have made? Will the pressure go away? Say it! How to heal that wound?