The Step Sister of Tiri

83. Angrier

At dinner, Zayna remained silent. Ayman knew that his wife was angry. However, he could not possibly comply with his wife's wishes. The man was sure Zayna would return later because she was never angry.

"I'm done. I go to the room first" said Zayna without waiting for answers from everyone.

Mama Aisyah frowned, not usually Zayna like that. Her daughter-in-law will finish the meal and wait for everyone to finish, just cleaning the dining table. He's sure something must've happened to Zayna.

"Are you with Zayna?" mama Aisyah asked Ayman.

"No, Ma. Maybe he was just tired, it was all day around the mall," Ayman replied lying. Mama Aisyah nodded as Kinan also complained about her tired body.

"Past be tired, usually Brother Zayna sitting in the room, this is even all day around the mall. I am the one who has a habit of walking in the mall feeling tired, especially brother Zayna," complained Kinan.

"What are you looking for all day at the mall?" ask Mama Aisyah.

"No idea, Brother Zayna. He said for the sake of nyari t-shirts for Ayman. T-shirt that is yellow, that he was willing to go around until he could find clothes for Papa, Mama, the same me too."

"Part of why the hell wear yellow clothes everything. You'll know that you don't like it, '" said Ayman.

"Even if you don't like it, your wife wants it. Yeah, at least appreciate him not making him sad. Moreover, he was willing to go around looking for you," said Papa Hadi made Ayman feel guilty because earlier, inadvertently he must have hurt his wife. The man prayed that Zayna would not be hurt by the rejection she had done.

After dinner, Ayman went into his room. It was seen that the wife had fallen asleep in bed with her back to the door. Either really sleep or just pretend. He is still reluctant to obey his wife's wishes, later also returned well again.

The man sat down on the couch and opened his laptop. He wanted to check out some unfinished work. Zayna was increasingly upset that her husband was more concerned with work than her. However, the woman did not wake up, she was still cool with pretending to be asleep. Until I finally fell asleep.

In the morning, Bik Ira cooks alone because Maysa is reluctant to enter the kitchen. The middle-aged woman felt strange when Zayna said she was lazy to go to the kitchen. However, he could do nothing because the woman was the daughter-in-law in this house.

Zayna chose a walk around the complex.in the middle of the road she met a man who was also exercising. They talk for a while and laugh occasionally. However, suddenly a hand blocked the woman's wrist hard enough to make Zayna grimace a little.

"You're from anywhere, anyway! Come on, let's go home!" take Ayman with you, then take his wife's hand away.

The man was upset to see Zayna smiling at another man, but it was still morning. Usually the woman will be busy in the kitchen, but just now when he woke up looking for his wife, it turns out that there is no one at home. The sight he saw really upset him. She was not willing to see Zayna like that with another man.

"Mas, sick!" zayna's moans made Ayman realize that he had hurt his wife.

"Sorry, Honey. I didn't mean it" said Ayman, who then let go of the check.

Zayna rubbed the ex-husband. He walked away from Ayman with a heart that was completely upset by the events of today. However, the woman was more upset about the incident last night when the man refused to wear his chosen shirt. I don't know why she wanted so much to see her husband wearing that shirt.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I was not on purpose," said Ayman while following the steps of the wife who was so fast.

"Forget it, I'm not angry" said Zayna.

"Not angry, but speak like that" Ayman murmured softly. Arriving home, Zayna immediately entered the room and cleaned up. Ayman is still following his wife, he is still not satisfied if the woman has not forgiven him.

"Well, Mas, take a shower first! Everyone is already waiting for breakfast," Zayna ordered with a flat face.

I don't want Ayman going into the bathroom. I don't know why he felt lately, his wife became someone else. Yesterday shopping so much, Zayna asked him to wear yellow clothes. Now the woman is angry that her husband accidentally hurt her. He used to be a very good person and forgave whatever mistakes people around him made.

****

During his time in the office Ayman could not concentrate properly. His mind was still on the wife who was at home. Dozens of messages he sent were not replied to by the woman, not even read. The man called Bik Ira and the middle-aged woman said if ...

"Sir Ayman!" call Ilham. However, the so-called was still engrossed in his daydream to the point of making the man pat the shoulder of his superior.

"What's up?" ask Zayna.

"Sorry, Sir. I've been calling you. I want to get the documents that you signed. I want to check it back."

"Sit down, Ham. I want to ask you something," Ayman said with a faint face.

"Yes, Sir. Can I help you?" tanya Ilham sat in the front seat of Ayman.

"My wife from yesterday was angry constantly. About what could make women happy and forget the problem."

"Well, why are you angry, sir?"

"I also know less because hormones might. Usually on dates like this he comes by the moon."

"Maybe you can make what you want come true. I just thought if there was an unfulfilled desire, surely it could make your wife happy."

"What wish?"

"I know what your wife wants."

Ayman thought about what Zayna's unfulfilled desire was and suddenly his mind stopped on last night. As soon as the man shook his head, there was no way he would have to wear that yellow t-shirt. Ayman really doesn't like it. However, if remembered how his wife's expression at that time, he admitted that the wife was very disappointed.

Zayna had gone around looking for shirts for him. However, he was so willing to throw away the gift of the wife just like that. Ayman let out a long sigh it seemed like this time the man had to completely give in to his wife.

"You go back to work. Thank you for listening to me" Ayman said, handing over the documents to Ilham.

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