Waiting for the Light to Return
Chapter 12 - Rawindra and the Goddess
Rawindra
“Babe! Babe!”
The more intense shaking woke me up in the middle of the night blind.
Fidgeting and half panicking, I hurriedly got up and turned to face him.
“Ya Babe? What was? You nauseous? Cramps?”
The beautiful woman by my side looked at me worriedly.
“This is my stomach like a contraction huh, Babe? Doctor says still next month ‘kan?”
Hearing him, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Getting up, I took a glass of water and poured it.
“It's okay, Babe. If 8 months pregnant is often a false contraction like that. Maybe you're tired or dehydrated. Here, drink first.”
The goddess, my beautiful wife woke up with great difficulty and immediately gulped water from my hands.
He drank water like a thirsty man.
I'm clucking.
“You must be drinking less. How many times have I told you to drink. Drink water, Wi, not coffee or juice.”
Putting the glass back in my hand, he scowled.
“His wife is pregnant big kok getting angry anyway.”
In a deep breath, I put the glass to the side nightstand and inched closer to it.
Like instinct, I automatically reached out, slipped her bangs behind her ears, then massaged her swollen legs.
“Not angry, Honey. Worrying. Thankfully, tomorrow is off. I know that when you go to school, you rarely drink. Forgive me.”
I kept massaging her legs and waiting for answers, but instead, “Ahh, that’s the spot, Babe. Very nice.”
I rolled a lazy eyeball.
“Have a wife who is very difficult to tell good. My patients are not like this very.”
He smiled and stroked my back gently.
Looked at me with love.
“Iya, yes. I promise I'll drink a lot. Don't be angry yes, Mr. handsome Doctor.”
Sitting on the sofa in the living room, I looked around with a big smile.
It has been a year and a month since I left this house and there has never been a day without missing it.
I miss the cushioned sofa with footstool slipping down this, where I straighten my legs while watching BeIn Sports every time I come home from the hospital.
I miss seeing pictures of our family lined up right above the TV, where I recharge physically and mentally drained away in the hospital.
But more than anything, I miss Dewi, my wife.
I miss the smell, I miss the taste of her body, and most of all, I miss her loving gaze.
I miss that look in her eyes.
The look I always get when I come home and hold her.
The look I always get when I serve him for a moment at the end of the day.
Actually, I really wish she was home this afternoon, when I knocked on the fence.
But damn, who greeted me even Mbok Jem with his typical batik negligee.
According to Mbok Jem, Dewi had gone from morning and did not say where to go.
Well, I shouldn't have expected much.
I know what I look like to him now.
A jerk's.
A jerk of a husband who left her exactly one day after our daughter was called the Almighty.
A jerk of a husband that went a year more without explanation and news.
His angry phones and chats were enough to describe what he felt about me now.
...
If only you know, Wi.
I'm sorry, yeah.
Forgive your lousy husband.
Forgive your husband who has no power to tell you the truth.
But I’m here now, Wi.
I’m back, as I promised you.
I can't explain why I left for a moment.
But I promise I will be there for you from today until forever.
Let me fix this.
Let me fix us.
The soft roar of the car I knew greeted my listening room from the direction of the courtyard.
Followed by the emergence of Mbok Jem who was struggling to open the door.
Breathe deeply and prepare myself, I immediately prevent it.
“Let me just open, Mbok.”
Mbok Jem stopped in motion, the key hanging in his hand.
I stepped closer and raised my hand, asking for the key.
Mbok Jem's gaze is the perfect mix of fear and nervousness.
I tried to smile.
“I'm the only one open, Mbok. Can I have the key?”
The car horn jolted Mbok Jem from the daydream, so he slowly placed the key on the open palm of my hand.
I held the key and stepped.
Because I will love you that much, even greater.
Always have, always will.
Although in a way that you probably won't understand or like.
Goddesses
“Hey, are you okay? Who was the phone from, Wi?”
Andra stroked my hair gently.
The caress that jolted me backwards and made me look at her as if she was an abuser on a city bus.
It's getting more astonished.
“Why you, Wi?”
Heart raging, I just shook my head quickly and said trembling.
“I have to go home now.”
Hearing my words, Andra's face instantly changed.
“What's up, Wi? Kok suddenly..”
I refused to look at him again and left immediately.
Walking fast almost ran, hitting the elevator button until my hand hurt, and swearing waiting for the elevator that stopped on each floor.
Arriving in the car I immediately slammed the car door, turned on, and drove as fast as possible.
My blood has long gone up to the crown.
My anger hasn't peaked like this in a long time.
So he’s back.
Rawindra is back in Bandung, in our home, in my life.
After leaving, dumping, and abandoning me, she still had the guts (or face) to step inside my house.
That coward, that jerk of a husband.
How dare he enter the house as if he were still the host there!
...
“What's the reason you drive home like crazy, Wi?”, whispered my little heart.
“If you are angry with him, shouldn't you ignore his return and spend time with Andra? Watch a midnight movie perhaps, then go home with her and.”.
Shut up!
Don’t even think about it.
I did hurt Windra.
I hate him and want to take revenge on him.
But I won't be that low.
I'm not gonna have an affair with anyone.
Because it's...
Because it's...
Clad in a red Polo Shirt and white chino shorts, he moved past the doorway.
As handsome as ever, as manly as ever.
Her hair had now grown thick, neat and fresh with her pomade.
Smiling, he approached the fence and opened it wide for me to enter.
Light his eyes, his open hands, and his boisterous voice.
“Hi, Babe. Log in yuk.”
...
I am messed up. So messed up.
The rage in this chest is not just a silent rage at Windra for what he has done to me all this time.
But also anger at myself.
Who couldn't resist haru and longed to see the man I still loved after everything he'd done to me all this time.
Anger at myself.
Who could barely resist opening the door and ran up to him, flopped down in his arms, and kissed his friendly lips.
And you, Win?
Why are you smiling like that?
Why are you looking at me so lovingly?
Why are you approaching the car and saying softly.
“Honey, you just take a break inside. Let me park the car, yeah.”
...
Damn it, Win.
Why don't you behave like a husband who cheats overseas so I can hate you wholeheartedly?
Why are you acting like my beloved Rawindra, the husband who made me fall in love all these years?
What am I supposed to do now?
