The Suffering of the Wife I Divorced

Chapter 49

The touch felt real, tickling and evoking wild sensations all over the bodies of the two. A fondle full of moans burst into the room.

Tiara held both hands around Bian's neck affectionately, replying to the man's play of lips passionately. The tempestuous sensations continued to subdue in the souls of the two, while the appearance of their lips grew increasingly hot and wild.

In the midst of the burning turmoil, Bian paused for a moment and took off their lips. Then kissed Tiara's forehead thoughtfully, then moved down her soft silk cheek, her jaw— and ended up in the woman's ear.

"We do not have to continue" whispered Bian hoarse. "Everything must be fine. Believe it."

"Bi, this is the only way to let my mother bless us" Tiara could even hear the tremors in her voice as she kissed Bian's cheek. "I believe you can't hurt me, please .. I don't want to separate from you."

"But, honey, we're both not yet —"

"I believe that you definitely can't hurt me" Tiara said as she pulled Bian to bed. No different from Bian, Tiara was also equally nervous as she continued, "I'm ready. Trust me, if our efforts succeed. They must've blessed us if I got pregnant."

Staring at Tiara's pretty face, Bian reached out and began to strip the buttons on her female blouse.

Shortly after the two did not wear a piece of cloth on his body, Bian held his breath as he tried to fuse with Tiara— entering slowly the most precious thing Tiara had given him— for the sake of a ridiculous plan when the two were drunk in love.

Bian paused for a moment as Tiara groaned in pain, no different from hers which also felt almost crushed.

"Sick, Honey?" Bian lowered his head and showered Tiara's face with an intense kiss. "I'm already soft—"

"It's okay, go on, Bi," said Tiara. "So just surprised."

Bian kissed Tiara's ears while whispering softly, "My pearls, you're all mine. Whatever happens in the future, we'll face it all together, okay?"

"I don't want to lose you, Bi."

"Yes, so am I. Promise me you'll be patient as long as I fight?"

"It's not just you, but we're both fighting."

"Be my soulmate, my pearls."

"I love you more than you know, Fabian Gaddafi."

___

Bian jumped in surprise when he heard his phone ringing, dragging him back from a wet dream in broad daylight.

In fact, he did not plan to sleep, especially in a sitting position leaning like that, and happened in a few minutes. He just calms down and tries to dampen the desire. Moreover, he never expected the woman to even be present in his dreams.

"Damn it!" Bian growled in annoyance, aware that Tiara's brief presence had completely messed up his neural makeup.

In fact, Bian had gone to great lengths not to think of the woman— diverting every short past ad that flashed through his mind. However, who would have thought, deep in the subconscious Bian— apparently their files and traces are still stored.

Bian let out a long breath, feeling frustrated at himself, as if distracted by the figure of a Tiara.

He stood up and made sure the Biandra was still asleep. Then choose out the room and take a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, he needs a lot of oxygen— feel messed up with the rampage in his brain.

Really, he felt too old to be stuck again in the pseudo shadows. Bian is not a new teenage kasmaran heartbroken, especially when he now has children and wives.

When Bian walked to the front yard and lit a cigarette between his lips, the villa guard suddenly approached while saying, "Sir, there was a guest, his name is Tiara, he tipped—"

"Not to discuss his name! Want to make me die hanging with my child's mother? Huh uh?!" bian snapped with teeth grinding, increasingly frustrated when the villa guard actually made his brain more stressed. "Do you want me to hang you?"

The villa keeper gulped while holding his neck, horrified by Bian's plotting which seemed to want to swallow him round and round. So, he undoes the intention to give Tiara's business card that had been entrusted.

"Oh, yes ... Sir," continued the guard carefully. "There was also a postman, there was a package of deliveries for Mr. Fabian Gaddafi—"

"Who's the sender?"

"Shortly, sir, I'll take it in the post first."

Soon, the villa keeper returned and brought the parcel with him, reading, "The name of the sender is 'the woman who loves you'. But there's no—"

"Please give the package to Dika. Now!" bian said when he thought the sender of the package was Tiara, exactly as the woman had written in her message.

"But, sir, I'm again keeping—"

"Send the package to Dika now, Kusnadi!" Bian growled with hardened neck veins. "Don't let my wife know, or you I'll fire!"

As Bian became ill, Amara found herself able to suppress and divert various negative thoughts, especially her over-thinking thoughts and worries about her daughter Biandra—.

If previously Bian always served Amara, a few days ago the habit was turned around. Of course it was all because Bian was lying on the bed, so no one forbade Amara from doing anything.

Finally Amara realized, the more he occupied himself with a variety of small activities in the villa, the less fear and anxiety that recently experienced Amara.

At least, Amara prefers her physical exhaustion, rather than letting her brain rest because of worrying about the uncertain.

Like tonight, Amara refused Bian's help dabbling in the kitchen. He instead asked the man to look after Biandra while Amara cooked after Bian prayed maghrib.

At exactly seven in the evening, Amara finished cooking and prepared two simple dishes at the dinner table. When he was just about to call Bian upstairs, a faint roar of motor stopped in front of the villa.

Shortly after, the front door opened and a young boy called out, "Assalamualaikum, Pa ... Mother ..."

"Who are you here, Al?" amara asked, frowning as Alif reached out to greet Amara. Not unhappy, but because the child's body temperature was a little warm.

"The same mamang," said Alif as he looked in various directions. "Said Papa's mom sick, Bun? Pantesan does not call. Alif kangen Papa and Biandra."

Before Amara could answer, Dika walked in while lowering the zipper parka jacket, draped on the back of the sofa and asked, "Si Aa has healed yet, Tea? Si Alif maksa really wanted to come, so invited here. Though Teh Mirna has been ngarang lest to come, rather fever from the morning. But rather than crying, yes Dika invited him. I want to see you, he said."

Amara did not answer Dika's question. He froze for a moment when he saw the clothes his sister-in-law was wearing. Cepol-haired and almost the same stature as Bian was wearing a light blue T-shirt, which was combined with short jeans below the knee.

From the color that is still so concentrated, as well as firm lines like just ironed, Amara guessed Dika's clothes look new.

Initially, she wanted to think that the clothes Dika was wearing were likely the same as the one Amara had bought for Bian a few days ago. The clothing was not a limited edition, and was not an expensive item.

However, Amara remembered very well the color and size of the clothes she had bought for Bian were really the same as the ones Dika was wearing now.

"Mother .... Bun, which Papa is it?"

Alif's voice managed to make Amara wink, realizing she was thinking too far— about the possibility of the clothes she bought for Bian was actually given to her sister.

"Udah .. uh, that is, there is. Bentar Bunda call first," said Amara, a little flutter and immediately divert attention. "Alif, have you eaten yet? Mother just cook sweet sour squid with corn parchment ... Dika, eat—"

"Alhamdulillah, the sustenance of the son of Sholeh!" Dika exclaimed enthusiastically before Amara finished inviting her to eat. "Emang happened to be a really laper, was going to eat at the house of Teh Mirna the Alif even ngajak go."

"Well, we eat." Amara reached out to Alif and took the boy to the dining room. "Wait here, Mommy call Papa you first, okay?"

When Dika caught up and pulled the dining chair beside Alif, at a glance Amara could smell the scent of new clothes— and it managed to make Amara's curiosity increase.

Fortunately this is not the first time for Amara to argue with Dika. So, Amara could not bear to say to the sister-in-law with a humorous tone, "Uhh, just looking at the new payday a few days ago, immediately buy a new dress, huh?"

"Not bought but was given the A ..." Dika did not finish his words when worried he might be wrong to speak— considering the clothes given by Bian last afternoon must be a shipment from Tiara.

"Dikasih Bian means that?" Amara finished Dika's sentence with a throat that felt stuck, heartache if indeed Bian deliberately gave the clothes to his sister.

Dika does not know how he should explain it to Amara. If she tells him that Bian got a shipment from Tiara, it means that it will be a disaster for the older sister's household, and Dika certainly does not want it to happen.

"Teh, can I eat first? This is a laper." Dika attempts to shift the topic by grabbing a plate and scooping the rice. "Uh, the food is still anget, Al. Would you like to take it?"

"Si Alif can go first, but you can't eat if you haven't answered," Amara said with a crisp chuckle, hiding a lump of pain with her laugh. "How many clothes are you wearing?"

Dika scratching his head that does not itch while again putting the rice coils. Feeling all wrong at once confused, and it feels like he ran to hide if he misspoke. However, suddenly a silly idea in Dika's head.

"Yes, dear to Aa," said Dika finally after finding the right reason, and considering that Amara and Bian had not been together for long, Dika thought that maybe Bian and Amara had not been fully open in every way. "Emang freaks sometimes the Aa. I already know you usually wear black and white clothes with ash, eh .. even try to buy colored clothes. It doesn't seem to fit, so it's guaranteed. Aa often bought the wrong clothes, let me get more."

Amara laughed softly, but her face was now slightly reddened as disappointment and heartache combined into a streak of anger.

Nevertheless, Amara again said with a joke, "Good, yes, your sister. How many clothes are there?"

Dika felt relieved when he thought that he was free from problems. From Amara's joking tone, Dika guessed the idea just now was quite reasonable.

So, lightly Dika continued, "Lumayan a lot anyway, t-shirt three, shirt one, same trousers three. Uh, Tea .. Can I eat now? Answer everything."

"Oh, can dong," said Amara cheerfully. "Allah Alif takein. I'll go upstairs first."

Turning around and walking towards the stairs, Amara swallowed a lump of increasingly bubbling pain in her chest. He felt that Bian did not appreciate what he was giving.

In fact, the man not only gave one, but everything he bought for the man.

It makes Amara a little sad and wonder in his heart, why does Bian not want to wear what he gives? Does he not like the clothes he bought?

Or, is it because the clothes Amara bought are not as expensive as Bian used to wear? Then, Amara regained her senses while remembering Bian's clothes as she separated in the laundry basket.

Although most men's clothes are simple designs, but almost all branded Armani Exchange, Tommy Hilfiger, or Ralph Lauren.

Amara thought, maybe the amount of money he spent to buy Bian clothes, the nominal was only enough to buy one or two pieces of branded clothes commonly worn Bian.

So, did Bian give all those clothes because what Amara bought was just cheap stuff?

Thinking about it made Amara even sadder. He shouldn't have to force himself to give something to a man as far apart as heaven and earth.

When Amara opened the room door, Bian was sitting leaning back while reading a business and management book. The man looked up and smiled gently at Amara when he heard the sound of the door being opened.

While closing the door behind her, Amara observed Bian with a slight injury.

In fact, the disappointment seemed real from the look in his eyes, so Bian immediately asked, "What's wrong? Need help in the kitchen?"

"There's Alif with Dika, they're waiting at the dinner table" said Amara flatly.

"When's coming? Kok nak—"

"If you don't like his clothes, you should say, not directly loved to people. Heartache knows not to see it!" Amara could not hold back what was in her heart. "I can love my father if you don't like him!"

"Ra, what's wrong with you?" Bian asked in surprise, completely clueless as to what his wife meant.