The Suffering of the Wife I Divorced

Chapter 25

"But I'm not crazy."

"Who said you were crazy, honey?"

With a chaotic mood, Amara buried her gloomy face on Bian's shoulder. Both of his hands hugged the man's neck, while Bian hugged Amara who was on his lap.

Next to Bian's hand moved up and down caressing Amara's back lovingly, hoping to make the woman a little calm after hours of Amara crying while shutting herself up, because feeling bad already put Biandra in danger.

After almost a week of their stay together at Bian's villa, this was the first time Bian had been able to persuade Amara to speak. Bian knew, Amara was still angry because of Bian's efforts to persuade him without compromising first.

However, what Amara did this morning really makes Bian can not be silent anymore, and he tried to persuade Amara to talk to him.

Luckily Amara was willing to open the door of the room after Bian pleaded many times. After Bian managed to get his wife to speak well, Amara did not even refuse when Bian pulled her into his arms.

Amara, who was sitting on Bian's lap, looked at Biandra, and the baby seemed comfortable falling asleep in a baby swing that swung gently to the left and to the right.

With the rest of her voice drained by tears, Amara again replied, "But did you just say I should be taken to a psychiatrist? It's a place for crazy people. I'm not crazy, Om. You want to get away from Biandra and not lock me up there?"

Bian puffed long, realizing that maybe Amara's knowledge was indeed limited to — considering his age is still too early when compared to him.

While peeking at Amara's forehead who was still dipping her face on her shoulder, Bian again asked, "When did I say I'd take you to a psychiatrist, what do you think, honey?"

"The rich are on that TV, where the madman is locked up, there are the same nuns. On the talk itself, there's yang—"

"That's a mental hospital, honey," whispered Bian, chuckling. "You think it's a distance. I just want to take you to a consultation with a psychiatrist, or commonly referred to as a psychiatric specialist. Doctors in that specialist dedicate themselves and are responsible for mental disorders by providing diagnosis and treatment—"

"Please accuse me of mental illness" said Amara in a soft murmur, then paused for a while before then adding bitterly, "Why do you like to accuse me that I do not, Om? Wasn't it enough you used to accuse me of having syphilis? I'm so bad, huh, like in your eyes?"

Bian paused for a moment, realizing that Amara never seemed to be able to erase the slightest bit of what she had done to the woman. However, Bian knows this time is not the time to continue discussing about it.

Still maintaining his voice to stay calm, Bian again said, "Okay, I was wrong and accused you of not-nothing. But now the situation is different, honey. Lately you've been more closed than usual. You never get angry, but you never talk to me either ..."

Bian breathed a heavy sigh. He again landed a kiss and sniffed Amara's cheek while continuing in a whisper, "Maybe you are lazy, disappointed, and lost trust with me, he said, until you really want to be alone even though we live in one house. But you need to reveal what is your frustration. If you don't want to talk to me, the only way is that, chat with shrink—"

"But I don't want to, Om," declined Amara expectantly. "I'm afraid they'll be—"

"Darling, it's just me this time, huh?" persuade Bian to be helpless. "I just don't want this incident to happen again in the future. I do not want to see you continue to be sad, until you yourself do not focus and concentrate the same Biandra. I don't know what your assessment of this is. You may think I'm selfish. But this is for your good as Biandra."

Amara raised her face and looked at Bian with a complicated look. When he just wanted to open his mouth to comment, Bian first added with the last persuasion, "Don't make me worry about seeing your condition like this, huh? I'm heartbroken to see you're so sad, Ra. How come I'm of no use to you like Biandra? Love me a chance to be the husband you want, who can help you, support you, care for you, love you .. once again, yes?"

Amara bit her lip, not knowing what to say to say Bian.

Finally hesitantly Amara nodded while muttering worriedly, "But you wouldn't have left me right if I was the same doctor?"

"No way," said Bian concerned with the fear emanating from the glare of Amara's eyes. "Your staff consulted with the doctor, I was in the room too, waiting for you to finish."

"That means three?" amara asked with the limited knowledge she had.

Bian is faint. "Patients are just like doctors. Even though we are husband and wife, considering lately you do not want to talk to me, you do not want to talk to me, it would be better if I give you privacy so that you can freely reveal what you might not want to reveal in front of me. But I was there. Don't be afraid."

Amara nodded, beginning to understand. "What about Biandra? You bring him with me again consul—"

"I put it on my sister, huh?" Before Amara was ready to protest her proposal, Bian hurriedly added, "I don't ask you to trust me if I say my brother can take care of our son as long as we go to the hospital. Clearly, he has three children. One third grade High School, one fifth grade Elementary School, and lastly Alif. And I'm sure that he won't refuse Biandra's inscription."

Amara looked at Bian suspiciously. "It's not your strategy anymore to keep me away from Biandra, is it?"

"Honey, I don't have any more alesan to keep you away from Biandra" said Bian feeling guilty. "You are my wife now, and Biandra is our son. Is it alesan I'm not sure you're the same as him?"

"It could be because because I almost did Biandra, you think to keep me as much as my own son" complained Amara with a stinging voice.

"No, Ra," said Bian earnestly. "This time, tomorrow before we go to the hospital, we anterin Biandra together to my sister's house. Let's not think macem-macem, how?"

So, Amara tried to believe in Bian's words. However, when the next morning they would leave, the fact is that Amara was a little troublesome because he had to prepare Biandra supplies. Starting from sterilizing several bottles of milk, preparing several sets of clothes and diapers Biandra, diapers, blankets, sling, and all***** the whimper that Biandra needs, Biandra, what he believes cannot be in Bian's brother's house.

As a result, until nine in the morning, Amara had not even had time to bathe, still wearing pajamas with a face that was still chaotic, because he again could not sleep almost all night.

Last night Bian told Amara that the doctor they were going to usually came at ten. Amara again felt chaotic because she could not move quickly.

Amara did not know since when she felt burdened because of trivial things. Starting from thinking they will be stuck in traffic, imagining going to queue at the hospital, waiting for his turn to be called a doctor, how long he will consult, how long he will consult, how long the journey home if they get stuck in traffic.

All these ideas made cold sweat begin to invade Amara's body, she felt difficulty breathing for a while when it was thought that she would leave Biandra for several hours.

And he doesn't know how many times Biandra's gonna cry when they put him on Bian's brother.

Amara didn't know why she couldn't control her emotions, and made her want to scream.

However, Amara tries to quell, and ends up shivering as the panic completely takes over Amara's control.

After successfully sighing many times, Amara decided that Bian would take Biandra alone, while he took a bath and got ready.

When Bian returned thirty minutes later, Amara had just finished her bath and was picking clothes in a towering four-door closet.

Since giving birth, Amara even forgot to never pay attention to what she looked like, or what clothes she wore every day.

She grimaced in horror at the pajamas, negligee, covered clothes that she believed would be bigger if she were wearing them now.

So, Amara dropped the option on the black jeans they had bought last week, combined with a knee-length light blue blouse, and a matching pashmina.

As Amara reflected and swept the lipglos on her dry lips, she realized her face was so bad.

Both of her eye bags looked deep, her cheekbones were slightly protruding, and she realized her face was so dull.

Amara never felt so bad when she saw her appearance that looked older than she should have. Maybe he really did not care about his appearance because he was too busy thinking about Biandra.

Just then, the door of the room suddenly opened before finally appeared the figure of Bian who had just returned. From the reflection of the mirror, Amara scanned the figure of Bian who always appeared fresh and kept his appearance always neat.

Suddenly distrust begins to infiltrate Amara's heart when he sees Bian who he thinks is too perfect.

The man was handsome, well-established, and he knew Bian was only winking enough, then only a foolish woman could not possibly be tempted by Bian.

These ideas made Amara emotionally turbulent again, filled with unwarranted jealousy and a sense of unfairness, felt himself very bad after giving birth.

While Bian himself looks more charming with blue wash jeans and a casual black shirt that is rolled up to the elbow.

"What dream?"

Amara blinked in surprise when Bian suddenly hugged her from behind. While staring at their reflection in the mirror, Bian smiled slightly and placed his chin on the shoulder of Amara who was just about to wear a pashmina.

Amara turned to her back to the mirror and looked up at Bian.

"I'm ugly, huh?" amara asked suddenly, then her breathing rumbled slightly as she added, "I look old, huh? Me bad? You should have married me. You're rich, you're handsome, you can get any girl out there. Why even marry me the bego, the poor, the uneducated, who ..."

"Why are you suddenly talking gini?" Bian pulled Amara's waist into his arms and looked down at Amara fixedly. "What's wrong?"

Amara gulped with difficulty when she saw Bian's gaze so deep.

"You want to cheat? Or, how many simple girls do you have, other whores you can pay with your un-leverened money?"

"Udah is messed up you are thinking," whispered Bian as he landed a kiss on Amara's forehead. "Don't think macems, I love you."

"Lied!"

"Just believe what it is." Bian chuckles. "Well, are you ready, right? We're leaving now, okay?"

"Jawab first my question! How many simple girls do you have?"

Instead of being angry, Bian just laughed amusedly at Amara's attitude that seemed passionate. "Nothing, darling. It's just you."

"Lied ah you mah!" Amara snorted annoyed while in the form of pushing Bian who increasingly tightly hugged his waist.

"You're asking to be kissed, Ra?"