The Third Match.

A Week After My Wedding.

Who is willing to read this story. (Third Stupid) preferably, read also (Wound End Marriage) because this is a continuation of this story.

Happy reading.💪💪💪❤❤❤.

Diah Susanti PoV's.

Failed my previous marriage, I admit because I'm not a good woman. But it doesn't make me a deterrent.

I remarried Alfredo, we loved each other but as it turned out, I was lying. Alfred already had a wife, and a son.

My second marriage was forced to divorce, even though we had one child. Because I realized, do not want to damage the harmony of their household.

Even though my second percerain was a hard blow. However, it only made me repent, and return to the way of Allah.

A year later, after divorcing Alfred, I married Marcello, the owner of the factory where I worked as a laborer.

Starting from my meeting with his little daughter, he loved me very much. Dipper-haired dudes have one son who is rich, handsome, and amazingly good, married me.

"Papa.. don't bobo here, Papa bobo in Papa's own room, just" whined Lita my friend. During the week of marriage, we were not given a chance by Lita, for both of us until we could not do the first night.

"No! Lita dong's own bobo, Mama's the wife of Papa" That's how the son and father always snatch me like a toy.

"Sir..has let it go first" I said. I don't know, for a week of marriage, my tongue went out to call my husband another call.

Until I was finally surprised, I did not expect my husband to take me to stay at the hotel.

"Master sure? we wanna stay here? Lita will go home from school to look for me" it's true, every school I always take to pick up.

"Let it go, Lita's picked up the driver"

"Let's go" so Marsel, if the talk is always mixed between the two languages, because he is not so fluent in Indonesian.

He took me into the hallways to the hotel room. The handsome man was mirroring me with a smile that was always blotting. Ah, this handsome guy always gives me surprises.

We arrived at the suites room, with large windows, almost touching the floor.

I opened the ceiling-looking curtains, and the view of the city was amazing.

"Honey. I went to the bathroom first" he peeped my forehead a moment ago into the bathroom.

I nodded, and after he came out I went to the bathroom. Luxury marble floors equipped with shower and bathtub. Actually without having to go to the hotel, Marsel's room was the same as this.

"Come here" he patted the pillow beside him after I got out of the bathroom. Shirts and suits were opened he only wore a boxer without a shirt plastered on his chest reddish white in black fur.

I'm still stuck on the edge of the bed. Kontan he pulled my hand to his chest.

"Sir" he no longer answered directly to ambush my lips. I dissolved in his messy fondling, he knew the sensitive spot on my body.

It was the first afternoon, not the first night, that I gave my body to my husband.

I pray that my marriage will no longer hurt each other, like my previous marriage.

"I love you" she whispered in my ear.

*I love you too"

We both felt the nikmanya heaven of the world, until I finally slept in his arms.

I turned to Marsel without a single sheet of cloth on his body looking slick in his sleep.

I immediately grabbed a blanket to cover her body. One hand dangled to the edge of the bed and I was right.

However, my eyes were fixed on her ring finger, tucked in a wedding ring but not the one we bought both before we got married.

I held her fingers, then I read closer, my heart ached, it turned out that the wedding ring was not engraved with my name, but the name Arabella.

Deg.

My chest felt slashed sembilu, then I looked back at his face and body that had still not changed its position.

This is what I'm afraid of who Arabella is? or is this the name of his former wife? this question is in my mind.

Does Marcel still love him? otherwise, why would he still wear the ring.

My tears I can't stand. I sat limply on the floor leaning against the bed, looking up at the thought of the no-no. What if he still has a wife like my previous marriage?

He lifted me up to heaven seven. He dropped his body to the bottom of the abyss.

I regretted, why so quickly accepted his proposal, not asking where his wife was before we got married.

Because I thought, he also did not want to question who I was and my life in the past. I also fully believe.

I took a deep breath, I exhaled violently. Am I destined to be an actor? if it is true that Marsel still has a wife.

Imagine that my breath gets more and more crowded. Will mama Calista ever return? and in the end I will be separated again and again as a widow.

Soon I went into the bathroom, flushed my body. My tears are flowing more and more.

After the bath I took the ablution water to perform the Ashar prayer, complaining all to Allah.

O Allah, allow me to build a household until the end of my life, if indeed Marsel is my soul mate.

Enough Abim and Alfredo to be my past, and Marsel remains my future.

Ah, remember Alfred's hard-earned name I tried to forget to get rid of the love in my heart, and finally there was Marsel in my life.

I thought I'd heal my heart's wounds. But I was wrong, just to make the wound of my heart that had begun to dry now scratched back.

I thought there would be no more pain in my heart, after receiving Marsel, for the umpteenth time he persuaded me. But I was wrong, the name Arabella was still engraved in his heart. Oh my God, how stupid I am, why don't I take my previous marriage lessons.

Hiks hiks torment me prostrate, complain of all the pain in my heart.

"Honey.." apparently he heard my tank, then woke up from his sleep sitting next to me. Gently rubbed my body. May this always be his attitude towards me.

"Honey... Why are you crying?" he grabbed my body that was still wearing a face.

"There's nothing, I'm just too solemn to pray" I replied. I don't want to ask this question now, because I can't accept the fact that this new household of a few days is coming to an end.

"Oh yeah already.I took a shower first" I just nodded. Staring at his body from behind, not believing, that even a man as good as him, could lie to me like Alfred used to.

Then why did he marry me? is it because the child, already in love with me, then I just want to be made a baby sitter?

Abim sister have you not been able to forgive me? until I always have a nasp like this? because my sins to Abim my ex-husband are too much. The lies that I used to tell Abim are now turning against me.