Tengil Tuan Tuan Presdir's

54. Kiara's sincerity

"Mas Abiiiiieeeeeee!"

The petite beautiful woman ran, immediately slammed into her husband's neck when Habibie was already on the last step of the stairs.

"Why should you run like that, what if you fall?"

Instead of listening, Kiara instead kissed her husband's cheek and then pulled Habibie's hand for him to sit on the chair on the dining table. Kiara took the plate, scooping her homemade fried rice into the husband's plate.

"This is the 59th fried rice Kiara has ever made. Kiara sure, today it will not feel as bad as yesterday. Try it, huh?"

The man did not immediately answer, Habibie actually even noticed the face of the wife, the smile that Kiara showed, Binar on her face, the woman looked very happy, she was very happy, he was so enthusiastic and proud even though maybe according to people out there making fried rice was not extraordinary, but for Kiara, he said, this is a great achievement after they get married and Kiara wants to learn many things.

Habibie was once made to laugh when for the first time, Kiara pranced around because she could cut her nails. Yups, for us it's a trivial thing. But for Kiara, for 25 years, the first time she cut her nails was after marrying him.

"Would you bribe me?"

The woman asked because Habibie remained silent. He glanced at the mirror in front of him, tracing his face for fear of something strange.

"My face is fine."

He sat down and took a spoon to feed his husband.

"Aaa, open his mouth, Mas!"

Habibie smiled. The man did what Kiara asked without turning his head anywhere. Focus looked at the beautiful woman in front of him with a shrunken forehead.

"Why Mas, not good fried rice?"

The woman's panic made her immediately take the leafan tissue that she placed under her husband's chin.

"Muntaahin, Mom. Kiara may not have succeeded. Don't eat, Mas Abie's gonna have a stomachache."

Habibie shook his head quickly. The man refused to do the wife's request. Instead, he took a plate of fried rice and spooned it again into his mouth.

"Well, Mas Abieee~~~" Kiara whines at the sign of dislike if her husband is too self-imposed. Kiara is still learning, he hopes Habibie is honest rather than having to torture himself.

"MasAllah. It's really good, honey. According to mas, this is the best fried rice ever eaten."

"really?" ask Kiara. She did not believe her husband's words. He snatched the spoon from the husband's hand and then fed the fried rice.

"Where?" ask Habibie. "Enak, right? I said the fried rice is good. You don't believe."

The woman looked at Habibie with teary eyes. A few seconds later the woman cried. He looked at Habibie with tears in his eyes, Kiara roared, the woman made Habibie and the people in the house worried because of the sound of her crying.

"Shuttt! What's up, why are you crying?"

Habibie pulled out his wife's chair, hugging the woman and rubbing her back with gentle strokes. "Why? Make it wrong again, right?"

Kiara shook her head strongly. She wasn't crying because of anyone else. "Kiara no papa, Mas Abie, Kiara is just a twilight. Finally Kiara can make food that is suitable for Mas Abie. Kiara is seneng because Kiara is of no use to Mas Abie."

"Oh Allah, Lady Kiara to such an extent. Though only fried rice, what if the Madam can already make rendang, like a world uproar."

Devi nods. He rubbed the corner of his eyes, holding back the tightness was difficult. Devi knows how Kiara tries to serve food. No matter he was not feeling well, no matter how many pack of plaster he spent to dress the wound on his fingers, until once the kitchen almost a fire.

Seeing the happiness of his boss, Devi also felt that happiness. Kiara's hard work paid off. The simple food was able to make Kiara happy. A woman who loved her husband very much.

Nod the head the woman gave. Kiara let go of her husband's embrace. The woman wiped her rough tears and then moved.

"Mas Abie eat first. Kiara wants to call Dad with Ummi Amelia. They must have gone along with the seneng if they knew Kiara could cook."

"Go! But don't be long. You should eat too, Kiara."

"Ready, Boss!"

With a quick movement of the woman running towards the top floor, Kiara really had to inform her father. The woman took the phone from the nightstand and searched her father's number for him to call.

"Assalamu'alaikum Father. Kiara has good news. Kiara senengggggg. Dad must be smart too. Guess Kiara's saying why Dad?"

I heard laughter from every phone call. "Wa'alaikumsalam, son. You know what dad is, you should be the one telling dad. You like this weird."

"Ikh Father. Don't think so, Kiara tell ya ... Kiara can make fried rice, Dad. The fried rice is delicious, Kiara's husband likes it, Dad."

The woman pranced. He was really very happy, especially his father lived up to his story no less enthusiastic. Amzar smiled, he rubbed the corner of his eyes, the man who was no longer young could not help happiness. He was moved, his son was willing to touch the kitchen Amzar was grateful, especially if Kiara could already make food.

"Alhamdulillah. Thank goodness you can do good things like that. I'm proud of you, son. Healthy yeah. Don't forget to stop by my dad's house if you're free."

After a long chat, Amzar hung up his phone call. He sat on the sofa and continued to say alhamdulilah. God granted his prayers. Kiara, that boy is now a big boy. She is no longer Kiara the spoiled troublemaker, Kiara is an adult.

"Dad love you, son. May God always make the daughters of the father happy."

** **

Tok Tok Tok!

"Lake in!" sahut Gibran from his room. The man replied without lifting his head at all. More precisely not yet.

"Excuse me, Sir. Did you call me?"

Gibran smiled. The man looked up, staring at Humaira from the bottom all the way up. So, this is the figure of Humaira, the woman Habibie considers as his late wife.

If Gibran can be julid, seen from any side Kiara is clearly better. Humaira does wear a veil, but that doesn't mean Kiara can't.

"Sit down!" order Gibran.

Humaira nodded. The woman pulled the chair in front of her very carefully.

"I want to ask you one thing, Humaira. That's your name, isn't it?"

Humaira nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'm Humaira."

"I'll only ask this one time, listen carefully and answer honestly."

"Good, Sir. God willing."

Gibran pulled the tip of his lips. The man leaned his body slightly forward, looking at Humaira who had started to wave.

"You're still single, right?"