The President's Wife

Chapter 95: Honey, I miss you

Pram sat down, calming down after channeling his emotions and anger. While Bayu is more calm, he already knows Pram well. Not only know, he knows very well the burden of life that Pram must bear. Must take responsibility from Riadi to take care of his daughter.

There were many events that he went through, twice the kidnapping of Kailla, not to mention the excitement for the cause that did not end. And Bayu was there, accompanying his last six years with Pram.

“I'm sorry, Boss! I was negligent this time,” said Bayu, sorry. He quite understands Pram's anger. It seems ordinary problems, but that's where his services are paid handsomely by Pram. To protect Kailla, from any trouble.

“I can't take care of Kailla with my own hands, I need you to help me,” explained Pram, glaring.

“I'm sorry!” whisik Pram's. A warm pat on the shoulder, then pass away.

After meeting Bayu, the next target is his mother. There are many misconceptions about what Pram thinks of his wife. And Pram felt he had to straighten out, before the relationship had frozen and stiffened again like before.

When out of Bayu's room, Pram's view was fixed on Ibu Citra. The woman was sitting daydreaming on the living room sofa without friends.

“Ma, can we talk? “ asked Pram, stopped his steps.

A nod with the flat face of Mother Citra was enough to describe the contents of the old woman's heart.

“Mama return to room only. I'll see my mom later. Now I have to take care of my wife first. He hasn't had dinner yet,” explains Pram.

The handsome man rushed into the kitchen, preparing a plate of steak complete with chickpeas and fries that had already been deflated. Weakened from being ignored for too long in the cold.

Pram had already stepped towards the room with a tray in his hand. Contains dinner and a glass of water. With his back, he forced open the door of Mother Citra's room which on the second day switched functions into their room. His mother relented, sleeping in the room that should have been reserved for them.

“Honey, your dinner,” said Pram, put a tray of food on the nightstand. His wife was still crying without end.

“Come on Kai, what are you crying about again?” pram asked, dropping his body, sitting on the side of the bed.

Kailla instead answered and grabbed her husband by the neck. “I'm sorry,” whispered back.

“I've forgiven you,” said Pram, grabbing a plate of rice and putting it on his wife's lap.

“But I can't eat alone,” complained Kailla showing her swollen right hand.

Without much protest, Pram regained the steak plate from his wife's lap. Cut him a medium-sized hinggan, fit to get into his wife's mouth. Not until there, after that he feed into Kailla's mouth painstakingly. Occasionally rub the tip of the lips with a tissue, because it is exposed to sausage.

“We haven't been here long. I hope not to spend time here fighting,” said Pram smiling. His hand just took a piece of steak into Kailla's mouth.

“I also don't want to fight with you. It doesn't taste good,” babble Kailla with full mouth.”

“I'm sorry, I've brought mama with us. I wanted to bring you closer to my mama,” said Pram, contained regrets in it.

“It's okay. Sometimes mama is fun too, can be used as a partner to make a mess. More fun with mom than Bella.”

Kailla covered her mouth with her hands. Smiling nosy, like a child who was caught red-handed has been troublemaking.

“Besok I can go to the bag shop yesterday again? Mama suddenly collapsed, I forgot the bag we wanted to buy,” Kailla said asking for permission. This time he was straightforward, unlike before playing with cats.

Pram nodded, feeding the last piece of steak into his wife's mouth.

“Bawa Bayu with you. I can work quietly if someone takes care of you and your mom,” Pram said.

“Oh yes, there is something I want to talk to mama about. You sleep first yes,” pamit Pram, patting the head of his wife. Then walk out of the room, carrying an empty tray.

***

The gentle knock on the door kept Mother Citra awake. Just as his eyes closed due to drowsiness, it suddenly opened wide again. He remembered his promise with the son that had not been realized.

“Log in!” scream from the bed. He was sure that the one knocking on the door was his son. Lifting her vulnerable body leaning on the bed.

And sure enough, from behind the door appeared Pram with his casual T-shirt. As always, always look handsome and charming with his warm smile.

“Mama is asleep?” tanya Pram, choosing to sit on the side of the bed so that it is more comfortable talking than sitting on the sofa.

“Just woke up when you heard your knock,” explained Ms. Citra.

“What do you want to discuss? About your wife? Mama apologizes, Pram,” continued Ibu Citra, choosing to admit wrong first.

“Ma, since the beginning mama already know what my wife's ability is. Even before I went to Austria, I explained to my mom. If you can't eat Kailla's food, you can order food from the outside. No one objected,” said Pram, sounding annoyed.

“Pram, mama just want your wife to learn,” said Ms. Citra, trying to defend herself.

“Ma, I just want to straighten out. Sorry, if all this time I've wished more on my wife. In fact, my wife has not been able to do anything,” Pram said opening the conversation.

“But for his incompetence all this time, there is a share of me also in it,” continued Pram, explaining.

“You spoiled him too much, Pram. So he can't do anything.” Ibu Citra commented. Putting each other's fingers on his lap.

“But I did not force him to be able to everything.”

The blue batik lady sighed. “Can't be everything, Pram. Cooking is a woman's nature. Taking care and serving the husband is the duty of a wife,” Ibu Citra obviously does not want to lose.

“Then how about mom. Is not the same as my wife? I am sure my mom can cook. If I label mama not a good wife because mama can't cook. Can mom accept?”

“Only because she can't cook like Kinar, then mom assumed she's not a good wife. That's what mama means?” todong Pram again.

“As far as mama knows, I never forced her to cook either. No, Ma. I just want him to understand what a wife's duties are like. But I'm not demanding he should be able to do it,” explained Pram.

“Pram, listen to ma..” Ibu Citra hung up her sentence, Pram had asked her to shut her mouth again.

“If I wanted to be smart in the kitchen, I'd have long left it to the famous cheff or enrolled it in the best cooking school in Jakarta. But I didn't do it.”

“Because it can cook or not it, it doesn't matter to me. I can still afford all her needs, hiring a housekeeper for her.”

“Mama doesn't understand your way of thinking, Pram.”

“Many women out there can't cook. It's just that they have a different fate and luck to my wife.”

“Maybe out there, they're lucky to get her simple husband. Which eventually forced them to go down to the kitchen and could cook or take care of other homework because of the circumstances.

“And Kailla has her own luck. He doesn't have to bother dizzying all that.”

Mother Citra shook her head. “You spoiled him too much Pram,” grumbled Mother Citra.

“If it wasn't me who spoiled her, then who else?”

If I don't spoil my wife, then mom wants me to spoil another woman?”

Bukk! A punch full of annoyance landed on Pram's arm. “Mama means not like that!” omel Ibu Citra's.

“One day when I was poor and had nothing, I was sure Kailla could do it too. Without coercion!” said Pram.

“Not so by mama, Pram. You spoiling your wife is too much.

“Honestly, I understand what mama means. But in my eyes Kailla is still like before, even though she is now my wife,” explained Pram.

“I treat him the same as I used to, like my own son and.” A smile appeared on Pram's lips.

“And I know deep in Kailla's heart, there's a part of her still considering me her Om, her daddy's replacement.”

“Mama dizzy every discuss Kailla with you,” grumbled Mother Citra, lying back. Pulling the blanket ready to continue sleeping.

“Mama knows, our relationship in the past was much stronger than our marriage relationship. And it makes us able to survive with this wedding.”

“That's also what I feel, every must be patient and endure the delinquency of Kailla.”

“Already, go to your room. Your son must have been waiting for his father,” snorted Mother Citra upset, lying on her back to Pram.

***

Pram returned to his room, staring at the busy Kailla with a cell phone in her hand. As soon as Pram's face appeared behind the door, Kailla had already run down and greeted him with her promise. Carefully pampered on the husband's neck. Was-was struck, worried that his injured hand would be knocked accidentally.

“What's up, Kai? Why is it spoiled like this?” pram asked smilingly, walking closer to the bed with Kailla still at home wrapped around his neck.

“Open your shirt, I'll treat your wound,” whispered Kailla shyly.

Pram smiled nosily, the more he saw Kailla blushing the more he was eager to tease her.

“You have no intention of harassing me or raping me, do you?” ask Pram, smile. While taking off his white shirt and throwing it away, showing off his burly chest.

The first sight Kailla saw was a scar doused in hot water that was still plastered in the chest area of her husband.

“Come lay there. I'll rub it with the same ointment as mine,” Kailla said.

Pram according, lying down with resignation. Letting Kailla do what she wants to do. A gentle swab of Kaila's hand rubbing the ointment on the wound area, slowly but surely moving. Warm swabs that the longer, the more make Pram crazy.

“Kai, you don't tease me!” threaten Pram, when feeling the agile fingers Kailla getting down. Passed through the navel and ended up carelessly opening her trousers.

“Honey, I miss you,” whispered Kailla.

***

To be continued

Love you all

Thank ye.

Note: Dejected by the madness and completeness of Sam and Kailla, their story will appear in the title Married Mother's Employer Yes. The last chapter up and which will be released tomorrow is still about the story of Kailla, Pram and Sam who collaborated with Bara and Bella of course.

The story of Pram and Kailla from miscarriage to 4 years of marriage that is skipped here will be raised there.

Note again: have not been checked directly up and do not stay asleep. If there is a typo and the error will be revised tomorrow. The sleepy author is already.