The Wasted Bride

Arwaa Decree (Arwaa POV)

I looked at the hand of the man who was holding this hand tightly. The owner was certainly my husband, Mas Genta.

He whom I felt was not destined to be my companion until death.

Aldair Gentala Arsawijaya, the man my father trusted as his successor.

I don't know, I'd forgive my daughter-in-law if she found out she never made me happy.

Here I always try to be sincere and accept my husband's reason for ignoring this lonely soul.

With hope, the return of my Imam to the companion of life whom God has paused, that is, me, his wife. But it turns out it was just a mistaken thought that I deliberately created to entertain myself.

My Genta, my husband, my soul mate...

If you had known these lips would never cease chanting do'a, begging the Most Merciful to turn your heart so that you, my Imam, could return to the path of the true owner of your heart, me, your wife.

But it turns out that this self is not as tough and patient as it faces the bitter honey of marriage with you, my Imam.

I'm sorry I chose to give up. This is all I can do as my last devotion to you, my husband. By forgiving and confessing all the mistakes and wounds you have inflicted on this self.

***

"So you forgive your husband?"

I looked at Ustadz Zahid with a faint smile.

There is doubt that covers the heart. Should I go back to my husband and give him a chance after what he did.

I remembered the will of a friend of the Prophet, Abu Al-Darda to his wife, Raudah Al-Uqala.

'If I am angry, you will be pleased with me. Even when you are angry, I will try to be pleased with you. If we are not like this, then surely we will be so soon separated (divorced).'

This desire to imitate the morality of the companions of the Prophet. But it doesn't feel like it can. There is no chance of getting back together, for this self is just an ordinary man, a broken place and all the sins of the intoxicating passions of the world.

"InshaAllah Ustadz."

I smiled at my husband's incredulous look when I heard my words earlier.

I'm sorry mas. Not that I want to hurt myself, I just can't fix the heart that you've been trying to lose for so long.

"InshaAllah I am ready to forgive all of Mas Genta's mistakes, but not to return with Ustadz" he said.

I can feel the body of this man by my side stiffening through his handrails.

Forgive me this is my husband.

"Arwaa, no..."

"No mas. Please understand. I'm just a human being, a woman, and also a wife who's been expecting affection from you since the beginning of our marriage,"

"However what I got. You never once looked at me even a moment after the contract was said, you ignored me, you hurt me, and you threw me away from your life, too,"

"While there is a feeling right now that drives Mas to come back with me, believe me it is not love, but regret. Because with me, your guilt will be gone,"

"Mas Genta never loved me. You were also the one who locked me away, just a boost of jealousy over your brother,"

"Mas, actually in this world no one is really destined to have each other, all just cheated on each other. So do you and me, there's no fate to keep us together anymore,"

"So please mas, divorce me?!"

I smiled bitterly at him. My husband still holds this hand but it's not as tight as before.

"Why do you insist on parting with me Arwaa? Is all this because there's another man by your side?"

"What do you mean talk like that?"

"Honestly, Arwaa, the reason you want to part with me is because of another man. Didn't you?"

I beat Mas Genta's hand until he took off his grip.

"Jaga talk about you. Although I left without your permission, it does not mean that I have forgotten my duty to keep this honor as your wife."

"Don't dodge Arwaa! I know you're after this family's son..."

I looked at the palm that felt sore. I don't know if this feeling of pain can reach my heart as well.

Actually I don't care if he berate himself. It is outrageous, however, that he involves others in our household matters.

"Arwaa, you..."

"Stop mas!" My screams can't stand all the accusations that continue to be given by Mas Genta.

"Stop judging me just because I left without your permission. You know exactly why I left. So stop being selfish. You're married to Fani, and let her be your only wife, as you've always wanted."

Mas Genta's eyes were reddened. Didn't he currently think of his other wife.

Why is he so naive. Wanting to polygamy, he could not be fair when he still had one wife.

No. I don't approve of polygamy. Polygamy is a shari'a in my religion. I just hate polygamy. Hate my instincts as a jealous woman.

"I'm not marrying Fani!"

Uh!

I stared in disbelief at Mas Genta who seemed to be clenching his hands.

"But you already have ana..."

"My daughter is dead Arwaa. Fani caused our little angel to go. When you and my family left me alone, my daughter was the only one who was this life spirit. But he went along with my feelings of love for Fani with him," Mas Genta cupped his hands to cover his face.

I'm out of words. So Mas Genta's son with Fani died.

Innalilahi wa innailaihi.

I don't know, I can't describe how I feel right now. What was clear, seeing Mas Genta bowed down with trembling shoulders, made me understand that my husband had gone through a lot.

Even so, my decision remains unanimous to part with Mas Genta. This meeting was also like the way God showed if Mas Genta had received his karma.

Feeling worthless because it was thrown away, Mas Genta got it from his family. Sadness because of the loss of someone valuable, obtained from the departure of the princess. As for the pain of betrayal, maybe he got it from me, because that's what he wanted to believe, if this self went away because there was another man.

Can you feel my husband?

My suffering when expecting your presence, your attention, and also your affection?

Why do you come when this heart has turned away from you? When I get used to living without you?

There are not many happy memories that can encourage me to accept you back, continuing the marriage bond that has been stretched.

I gasped when I realized I was shedding tears.

This leg also stepped closer to a figure that looked so fragile. I held her hands while looking into her eyes that were emitting sadness.

"Mas, it may be easy for this self to forgive you, but not to forget all your deeds to me. So please forgive me, and please try to separate from you,"

"Mas, your happiness is not in me. You know very well where your happiness is, your mother. Meet your parents, please forgive them, especially your mother. As I plead your ridhom over me at this moment."

This hand moved wiping away the tears on her cheeks. Not to forget I salami his hands solemnly.

"Ridhoi I'm divorced from you Mas" I said softly.

I felt her hand clutching my hand tightly. With a hand that gently stroked my head that was covered with hijab.

"I'm sorry for hurting your heart, but I know your heart really means it. I'm so ashamed to apologize to you, but that's what you wish for, but I can't. I lost my way, my ego won't budge. My mind is so tired, that I no longer have a strong self,"

"What a shame I wasted a prayer wife like you Arwaa. But I realized, so big of a wound I inflicted on you. For that I will stop your wound by removing yourself, even though I know that wound will remain impaled. I'm sorry my wife,"

Mas Genta let go of both his hands and looked at me.

"Bismillah, Arwaa Kemuning Bhurri, from now on I, Aldair Gentala Arsawijaya, divorce you."

My crying broke. This self can no longer withstand the turmoil of sadness that hit the heart but along with it there is also relief in this heart. The feeling that always burdened me every time, felt eroding along with tears that flowed.

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