The President's Wife

Chapter 105: The Silence of Pram

Dozens of image messages sent by Pram's men made Pram's emotions peak. His wife was playing cat behind him. Four months ago, Pram kept a lot of things, trying to assume there was nothing between Kailla and Ditya.

Looking at her eyes with a smile that suddenly disappeared from the corner of her lips, Pram could only hand her for now. Displaying books that are whitened in order to restrain emotions.

“Honey, I have to go to the office,” whispered Pram in the end chose to hold his own. Swabbing a white and smooth face like Kailla porcelain with her index back. The light rubbing stopped at the corner of the lips.

“I love you,” whispered again, shedding tears. I don't know what Pram is crying about. However, these four months she has often secretly wept over her relationship with Kailla.

All these four months have been quiet, no chaos, no quarrels. Pram chose to keep it to himself. Maybe too tired to get angry just venting jealousy that torments him.

These are not the first pictures of Kailla meeting Ditya. Previously Kailla had met Ditya several times behind her.

Maybe he's already at a saturation point in their relationship. For almost four years always keep Kailla so tight. Once back in Austria he chose to make peace with his life while making sure the relationship between his mother and wife had improved.

Choosing to humanize his wife. Make his wife comfortable by giving her space that is not as small as before. Closing her eyes to all the things Kailla does, even though she knows things. It is not easy to enjoy this jealousy alone.

****

RD Group Office.

The afternoon meeting went well with Pram, the meeting leader looked calm and was not chatty and asked as much as usual. The mature man simply tapped his expensive pen onto the veined teak table, listening to a presentation from one of the company's vendors.

David who was sitting next to the number one person in the RD Group stared in astonishment. Like not their boss. Pram was like losing his life at this meeting. Does not show fangs as usual.

When the meeting was declared complete, Pram was seen saying goodbye out of the room first. Since then his heart and mind were not in the office but carried away by his wife at home. A lot of curiosity was put out, but he had no place to complain other than Bayu, an assistant who was already considered his own brother.

Rushing towards his study, he even ignored Stella's greeting. Not long after the door of the room closed, it was seen Pram reappearing from behind the door with new instructions on his secretary.

“Ste, I don't want to be disturbed. If you have guests or other needs, have David handle it!” a short order before closing the door to his room again.

Stella could only nod in astonishment. It was unusual for his boss to behave as strange as before.

Instead, in the room, Pram was sitting in his chair. Staring at dozens of photos of his wife that were spread almost filled his desk. Photos of Kailla with Ditya that she just removed from the brown envelope. All the photos that his people took during these four months.

The two burly hands clenched, not knowing who to be angry at. Sometimes tired, sometimes tired. It is impossible to forever curb Kailla like this, there comes a time when she has to let go of Kailla like the other wives.

Sighs to calm his current feelings. Tidy up the photos back and save them to their original place.

The ringing of the cell phone on the table disperse its concentration. Seen on the screen Kailla made a video call with him.

“Iya Darling,” said, as Kailla's pretty face filled her phone screen.

“Why not say goodbye to me,” lamented Kailla was still lying on the bed in the same position as when Pram left her.

“Lazy! You haven't woken up since?” ask Pram. His eyes widened when he realized Kailla had not even dressed at all, showing off a reddish mark all over her body from her work a few hours ago. Still curled up on their soft bed.

“Didn't you just say, ask me to lie down,” Kailla said nosily.

“Your children are camping in here,”, said Kailla showing off her flat stomach to her husband.

“Oh yes?” pram asked, trying to follow Kailla's joke, with a surprised expression he made up.

“Indeed do you know where they camped in there?” ask Pram again.

“Feel the heat of the bonfire, dear,” sahut Kailla origin, while wiping her flat stomach.

“Hahaha!” Pram's laughter broke this time, forgetting that it was with his gulana that had filled the recesses of his heart.

“Wake up! Shower, it's late afternoon,” pinta Pram, glance at the clock on the wall of his room.

“Ah, I don't want to. If I wake up, your kids' tent will fall apart in there. And we can be sure they will disperse, run away and mess again as it has been,” explained Kailla origin.

“Already. I still have to work now.” The man showed me a stack of files he had put away on the side of the table. Show it to his wife from the phone screen.

“No need to wait for me for dinner. Home from work it looks like I'm going to mama's place,” Pram said again, smiling. A smile that is not as sweet as usual. A smile is forced when his feelings are upset.

***

Pram's car was seen entering the courtyard of Ms Citra's house. Pram got down from the back seat, previously threw a work coat into the car, rushed into the house followed by Bayu.

“Mas..,” greet Kinar smiling friendly as usual.

“Where's the name?” pram asked, looking at the woman at a glance. Next barged in without excuse.

Pram went straight into his mother's room without knocking on the door first. Mother Citra who was sitting watching a television show, was shocked. His son came without giving any news first.

“Pram,” how to look weird. The elderly woman stared at the door, waiting for another figure who might have come along with her son.

“Kailla not coming?” ask Mother Citra.

Pram. “No, I'm from the office. I miss you,” said Pram, dropping his body on the sofa, right next to Mother Citra. Hugged the old woman tightly, occasionally peeling the wrinkled cheeks that had dropped inedible age.

“Have long not seen your wife, sometime take her to see mom,” pinta Ibu Citra, pat Pram's face still stuck on her face. Spawning there.

From the direction of the door, looks Kinar enter with a cup of hot black coffee. Pram's favorite drink since the beginning. Even Kinar had already mastered the taste that the handsome man liked the most.

Seeing Kinar, Pram immediately took his seat. Do not want to look spoiled in front of the woman who has been guarding her mother. Kinar's status in his eyes did not have the right to get too close to him, even looking at the other side of him.

“Please Mas,” said Kinar, again showing off a row of persistent whitening neatly arranged. A beautiful smile that for four years is expected to melt Pram's heart. But all in vain, Pram will forever never fall into his hands.

Just now Kinar was about to hand the coffee over to Pram, but accidentally Pram's burly hand nudged and spilled the contents of the cup onto his own shirt.

“Sshhhh.. Shitt!!” peekkik Pram, when all the contents of the cup wet his shirt. Staring at the brownish stain on his blue shirt.

“Sorry Mas,” said Kinar felt guilty.

It's all right. You can go out,” pinta Pram. Deftly open one by one the buttons of his shirt. Removing and showing the chest of the field with some reddish marks of fruit by his beloved wife.

Kinar who had not fully come out from inside the room still had the opportunity to see the rare sight. Staring at Pram's bare chest without blinking.

“Truly handsome!” he said in his heart.

“Kinar, please take care of Pram's shirt,” pinta Ibu Citra handed over the blue shirt hit by the coffee spill. As fast as lightning, Kinar grabbed it. Closely smothering Pram shirt, smelling masculine scent, sweat mixed Pram expensive perfume.

“Good Ma,” sahut Kinar, for the first time had the opportunity to touch Pram goods up close. He could only stand from a distance.

It looks like Pram rushed out to meet Bayu to ask for a change of clothes in his car. Not long ago the man had reentered with a white shirt and shirt without buttons, which were attached to his body.

“Pram what happened?” ask Mother Citra. Her maternal side rattled, smelling the irregularities and peculiarities of her gestures and discussing her son's body. During his four years together he began to know many things about Pram.

“Nothing. There's just a lot of work in the office. I'm tired,” said Pram reasoned.

“Why never bring your wife here? Is there something you're hiding from mom?” ask Mom Citra to try to find out. Almost four months ago, Pram only visited him alone. Even Pram looks like he rarely talks like before.

“Kailla is busy with the script, but now it's done. Later I will find time to take him to meet mama,” said Pram.

Mother Citra looked at her son without blinking. As a mother, of course she understood there was something Pram had hidden from her. But he couldn't force Pram to speak when his own son closed the whole thing.

“Yakin don't want to tell?” ask Mother Citra make sure.

“I'm fine,” replied Pram briefly, trying to smile. The conversation halted when Kinar returned to the room and invited the mother and son to enjoy dinner.

“Ma, dinner is ready,” said Kinar, surprising the two. He was standing behind the door. Stealing hearing the talk of the mother and her son who tickle curiosity.

“Come, we eat,” invite Citra's mother to smile, pull Pram's hand following her steps towards the dining room.

The family dinner was warm, though Pram refused to talk too much. The man was more silent, occasionally answering when there were questions directed at him. Bayu who understands well sits the problem is only a thousand languages silent.

Pram's silence was still going on until the man got out of Ms Citra's house, and rushed to her car.

To be continued

Love You all's.

Thank ye.

Next:

Kailla had just come out in a fit of annoyance from her husband's study. He just had a big fight with Pram in there.

It looks like Pram came out and tailed behind his wife. “Darling, you misunderstood. I have nothing to do with him,” Pram said.

Kailla kept walking straight ahead, not even turning her head. Ignoring her husband's calls over and over again. But his steps came to a halt as the phone in his expensive bag rang.

“Ditya.?”