The Suffering of the Wife I Divorced

Chapter 53

The mood of Amara that morning was amazingly disheveled when she never found her bag. He became even more upset when his body was sweating from the thrashing around here and there wearing a thick jacket.

Unfortunately, last night he was wearing only a black tank top and jeans. So, there's no way he's taking off his jacket— even though inside the villa it's just him and Biandra.

His annoyance grew even more when he had to replace the Biandra— diapers while he even put the diapers in the bag. Where would he be willing to let Biandra's butt get a rash due to diapers being replaced too late?

So, inevitably he immediately took a cell phone and contacted Bian. Only, Amara just realized that he did not save the new Bian number. After all, he had already erased Bian's old contacts after they divorced back then.

Luckily he hasn't deleted the call history, and tried to remember which one was Bian's number. Then he finds the call log out, and he remembers it was the last time Amara called him— right when she asked Bian to buy her herbs and vegetables a few days ago.

He first saved the contact and sent a short message.

To: Kang Butcher: (Where is Biandra?)

The message was sent, but there were no reports Bian read the message. So, when within three minutes the message was not answered, Amara immediately contacted the number.

Luckily, he didn't wait long for the call to come, and Bian's voice immediately asked, "Why, Ra?"

"Why is it again!" amara grousers flanking the phone between her shoulders and ears, while her hands are busy opening Biandra's diapers, wiping*********** the baby with wet wipes. "I've sent SMS, Biandra same bag where is my bag?"

"Don't leave yet, Ra?" Bian's voice sounded annoyed. "I just finished, this again on the road want to go home—"

"I want to replace Biandra's pempes! Make Biandra milk! It's all in the bag!" Amara raised her voice, wanting her to strangle Bian because it must be the man who hid the bag. Who else could make Amara annoyed if not Bian?

"Why a boy anyway? Play umpetin like that?" amara continued, clumping the wet tissue tightly, as if venting her irritation, and directly throwing it into the trash.

"Take clothes with the Biandra in my room" said Bian calmly, as if Amara had complained that it was no big deal. "Everything is in the closet, the third door from kiri— is unlocked."

Maybe Amara did not know Bian had also taken that into account, and made Amara completely dependent on him in the slightest thing.

So, Amara immediately got out of bed after enveloping the bare feet of Biandra with a cloth bedong.

Without ending the call, Amara followed Bian's instructions, entered the man's room hurriedly, and immediately visited the towering six-door closet.

When opening the closet, Amara realized there were only Biandra clothes there. In fact, Bian had taken out the contents of the bag, as well as neatly arranged according to type, so he easily took what was needed.

"Where are we?" urged Amara while taking a piece of bedong cloth, diapers— is also a series of other needs. "Why are there only Biandra doang clothes?"

Instead of answering Amara's question, Bian ended the call.

"Crazy people!" hiss Amara was upset while closing the closet door after finding what Biandra needed.

He was incredibly irritated by Bian's actions. His breath hunted, and it managed to make his back sweat until Amara was getting angry.

As if he did not want to mess around because there were no clothes that he could wear, while soon he had to face cooker— boil a bottle of Biandra milk and prepare breakfast for himself.

Finally Amara opened the door of another closet, looking around for Bian's clothes. To hell with Bian's judgment that might accuse him of being sassy for taking one of the man's white jerseys without permission.

While taking off her jacket and hastily passing the shirt off the top of her head, Amara thought— if Bian was angry because he was wearing his shirt, he could defend himself by mentioning wrong Bian himself why hide his clothes?

After all, wrong Bian himself why immediately end the call of the other side?

Amara returned to the three principles embedded in her brain. First, he is always right. Second, Bian is always wrong. Thirdly, if Amara makes a mistake— then come back again on the first and second principle.

Amara did not care about the size of the shirt that was too loose on her body. However, the soft textured cotton cloth is quite comfortable and makes him not so angry.

He hurriedly returned to the room and thought about directly bathing Biandra— no matter if the new time showed at seven.

Finally Amara prepared warm water in the bathroom for Biandra. Then take off the jeans worn— thought he would also take a shower immediately after taking care of Biandra.

Bian had just arrived when Amara walked into the bathroom carrying Biandra. While holding Alif to explore the stairs after locking the front door, Bian noticed the silence from Amara's closed room.

Anxiety enveloped Bian, fearing the woman was desperate to go— even though the villa keeper confirmed that there was no sign of Amara fleeing through the window. After all, Bian should have realized that the woman could not have broken into the iron trellis attached to every window that could be opened.

"Keep what do you want for breakfast? Porridge does not want, bread does not want, eggs do not want. What'd it want?" bian asked softly as he laid Alif on the bed and covered the child.

"But Alif's mouth hurts, Pa," Alif said slowly. "So it's also fitting to drink sick nelen."

"But you have to eat before you take the medicine." Bian tried to persuade, although he was not sure Alif could chew food— considering the inflammation in his throat is quite severe, to make the child high fever. "Eat a little, huh?"

Alif looked doubtful, but he nodded slowly as he swallowed the saliva— soaked his sore throat.

"Alif wants to eat fried chicken," said Alif finally.

Bian nodded faintly. "The doctor said you can't eat fried food first, the throat will hurt more" Bian explained. "The chicken is made of vegetables cut into small pieces, yes? Same corn sausage. Wanna?"

When Alif answered with a nod, Bian finally breathed a sigh of relief and asked Alif to wait while he prepared breakfast.

After Bian came out, he made sure that Amara and Biandra were still in his room. When he opened the room door, Bian did not find their whereabouts. However, Amara's voice was faintly heard from the bathroom whose door was left open.

Relief flooded Bian's heart as he walked in, intending to ask Amara what the woman wanted for breakfast.

Merely, when he was in the doorway of the bathroom, the sight before him made the blood on Bian's body suddenly feel rustling.

Goddamnit! He shouldn't have entered if he finally found a sight that made him angry.

Not because Amara was too focused on bathing Biandra to not realize his presence. However, all because Amara wears a white T-shirt that Bian believes is his.

No, Bian was not angry that Amara was wearing her shirt, but why did she have to take her pants off?

So, it's not Bian's fault that his eyes are now fixed on the cursed black triangular cloth behind Amara's shirt.

Jakun Bian twitched as his eyes lingered on Amara's calf, scanned her smooth thighs, and again stopped at Amara—'s synthetic bumper which he knew was so chewy and dense when squeezing it.

Goddamnit!

It could be that the woman actually looks more sexy and exciting. Bian took pains to hold his breath and control the turmoil that suddenly appeared. Suppressing the urge to scrape off the original tied Amara hair.

It was very anxious that Bian dragged the woman into his bed, releasing the desire to make love that had thrashed to gnaw at his bones.

Bian shook his head, trying to shake off the fantasy of his sexual needs that were now in the crown. Trying hard to get rid of that thought, even though he knew something behind his pants even squirmed just from looking at Amara.

"Mara," said Bian, unaware that his voice was so heavy and raucous.

Amara was shocked to hear Bian's voice, then turned and found Bian standing in the doorway.

"Why did you come here?" peeking Amara, annoyed and embarrassed until her cheeks reddened. "I don't wear pants!"

"But it's too late, Ra," said Bian with a mischievous grin.

"Get out!" Amara growled with her teeth grinding while pulling a towel to dry the Biandra she had finished bathing.

"No," Bian said as he stepped closer. "Why don't you wear pants in the morning? Intentionally teasing me, huh?"

"What style?" Amara receded as Bian drew nearer, while her eyes radiated a passionate interest. "Your men clumped all my clothes!"

"You know what I used to say if the results can see you this sexy," said Bian who then pursed his lips to form a kiss. No matter what, it made Amara glare at him sadistically.

"You go there, eh!" Amara turned her gaze away from Bian's gaze, she lowered her head and tried to dry Biandra's body with one hand. "I'm ashamed to know I don't wear pants!"

"Shame to be ashamed?" bian Goda while raising one eyebrow. "Just like your own husband, who already knows how you are shaped, who knows if you are naked like what. Still say shy?"

"We want a cerei!" Amara looked up with a defiant attitude.

Bian raised his shoulders lightly. "If I say I don't want a cerei, what can you do?"