The Trap of Love Bockey Tengil

Visiting mother's house

At about six and a half, Mas Gibran went home from work. After briefly finishing the ijo bean porridge, without changing clothes first, the man told me to get ready immediately because it would immediately slide into the city of my parents residence.

Not much stuff I brought.

Together with Om Vino, the three of us go on a journey. While on the road, I focus more on the phone to reply one by one incoming messages, both in the ijo and blue applications.

[Nad, there's a greeting from Davin. Unblock WA he said] Message from Sari.

Huh huh? Did I know I was in Davin's contact block?

Immediately I checked the blocked contact list. And it's true. There are several numbers lined up there, including Davin's. Why I don't fuck. It's a shame Davin never contacted me.

I quickly unblock it. Not long ago a notification appeared on the top screen. Message from Davin.

[Thanks has unblocked it. Btw why? Am I wrong?]

[Yes. No Davin. You have nothing wrong, really. I also didn't realize that your contact was blocked.] I replied with a cupped hand emot apologizing.

[Oh that. Is it home again?]

Duh, Wawat!

[I'm outside] I'm honest.

[I was going to play there]

[Hehe. Next time, yes]

I hope it's another time a few years later. Sory, yes, Vin. You're too good for me.

[OKAY. But you're healthy, right?]

[Alhamdulillah, healthy, Vin]

Davin then kept sending successive messages, but I didn't reply. My fingers slid towards the blue application.

There is a recent news update from my idol. Justin Bieber's. My haluku husband since Junior High.

'Justine Bieber told fans in a video posted to insta*** that she had been diagnosed with Ramsay Hunt syndrome, which caused her to be partially paralyzed in the face.'

"What?! Oh, my gosh, Ayang!"

Holy hooch! His handsome face is troubled.

The two men who were in front of me immediately turned their heads, then threw one another a glance.

"Get me your phone!" pinta Mas Gibran's.

I don't know why I just obey and hand my phone to him. I waited for a few minutes, but it was not returned.

'So long. What checks, anyway. My dear it's just you! That's also temporary.'

Nothing is eternal in this world.

I looked up, saw what Mas Gibran was playing on my phone. Aish, how giddy. Apparently the phone with the logo of the bitten apple was being played in his hand.

"If you have, give it back!"

She's looking.

"This?" his tananya showed me my white cell phone - a gift from Mas Gibran on the first day I set foot in his big house in Jakarta.

Without babibu I immediately snatched that thing from his grasp. But damn, the bule's husband even distanced his hands, and made it difficult for me to reach the phone.

"Reverse, ish!" I tugged at the navy-colored coat sleeves he was wearing.

She thaws and puts my phone in my pocket. Is he jealous, see Mas JB's photo on my phone? No way!

***

Hoek!

"Mas, don't go. You get in the car!"

"Squeaky. The wife is like this and she's telling her husband to get in the car." He snorted. His hands don't stop massaging the recesses of my back neck.

"Master, this."

I looked up, saw Om Vino carrying a soft drink and handed it to Mas Gibran. Mas Gibran told his best friend to go and buy something. Apparently this.

"Drink!" He thrust the green bottle towards me, but I immediately shook my head.

"No. I don't like soda."

"Don't ngeyel. Soda is good for relieving nausea."

Huh uh?! The theory of where it is. Crazy when stomach pain like this entered soda.

"This part is spitting up." I stood up and sauntered into the car ahead of the two men in suits who were still sculpting.

A few minutes later, they both came in after me. We go back to gas.

After continuing the fifteen-minute journey, we finally arrived at our destination. Om Vino parked the car on the empty land next to the former home of Mas Gibran first.

After waiting for Om Vino to park the car, I immediately stepped towards Mother's house. In the back, two gallant men followed me like a bodyguard. Om Vino and Mas Gibran.

Geck! Geck!

"Assalamu'alaikum," I cried antusia, impatient to meet Mother.

There is no truth from within.

Tens of minutes passed, but Mother and Father did not open the door. I peeked out of the window, quiet. Then back and forth to check into the kitchen yard, maybe Mom was there.

"Ada?" ask Mas Gibran when I get back from the kitchen yard.

I shook with a lethargic look.

Mom said she accepted, but why when I visited with Mas Gibran, Mom and Dad were not home.

"Today is almost maghrib, we better find lodging." Mas Gibran looks so great.

"But I want to see Mom."

"Later tonight we're here again."

I exhaled a sigh.

"All right, but promise first." I pointed my little finger at Mas Gibran. I saw Om Vino smiling. The smile that then rubbed on my lips as Mas Gibran hooked his little finger on my little finger. Even with a bent face. Bodo time, anyway tonight I have to meet Mom!

***

Mas Gibran chose lodging in the Marigold NavaPark apartment. The location is in the BSD area which has access to the JORR toll road, Jakarta-Merak and Jakarta-Pondok Indah. He said he would stay here for a month.

I have never stayed in an apartment, a little bed on the facilities available in the indoor or outdoor courtyard of this luxury building. This is what it feels like to marry a rich man.

Not wanting to waste a chance, I would have enjoyed some good times with Mas Gibran before I decided to get away from his life.

"Mas, where? What, Om Vino didn't come?" I asked who had been agitated just because I was waiting for a change of clothes.

"Just wait."

"Sampe when? My body is tired, I want to take a shower. It's eight o'clock at night. Not to mention we have to get ready to make it to Mom's house." I peeked at the man in front who was sitting with his ghost on the dashboard of the bed while playing mobile phone.

"Mas!" Irritated, I threw a pillow at Mas Gibran. Quickly the man caught the pillow that was almost about his face.

Mas Gibran then got up from his seat and stepped past me.

"Bocah is not patient," he said slowly, but I can still hear. He grabbed the suit attached to the side of the sofa, then came out leaving me alone in this spacious room.

When he arrived at the apartment, on Mas Gibran's orders, Om Vino went to the shopping center to buy some clothes for me and also Mas Gibran. But for almost two hours my husband's best friend did not return. No way, right, he's stray? Or maybe Om Vino is surrounded by girls while choosing clothes so that he can not go home?