What's My Wrong

Eps. 07

[Can we meet?]

I read once again the message that went to the whatsapp app I received this morning, the same contact number that gave me the info about my husband's affair.

Encouraged by curiosity I filled the mysterious request, people I didn't know who and had no idea about it at all.

I sent the children to Aunt Rika Kayla's mother on the grounds of going to the salon. Of course, without Kayla's knowledge, if she knew she would force her to come along.

And here I am, the cafe of one of the largest malls in the city of Makassar. I deliberately chose a crowded place just in case the person had malicious intent.

Fifteen minutes later, it was as if my heart had stopped beating when I saw the approaching figure, a woman I knew so well, my husband's mistress. The sari!

Walking confidently up to me, wearing a minimalist suit a knee-length skirt of a pink shirt with a black flower scarf, not to forget the sunglasses perched on her big nose, I admit she is beautiful and fashionable.

Imagining the woman making out with my husband made my blood boil, I quickly said stuff while massaging my chest.

He threw his body into the red sofa taking a facing position, I observed all his movements in silence.

Without a word I scooped up my coffee robusta gold order. Fad thoughts arise, if only I knew that he who would come might be able to prepare cyanide first before.

Long enough we were silent, it was him who asked to meet so I let him start this awkward conversation. There should be something important to say, so he was determined to invite me face to face.

He waved at the waitress, ordered a robusta gold (also), what?! Does he even like the same drink? I shudder in horror.

“No need to look at me like that,” he said.

“Now Mbak Indah already know who sent the message?”

“Iya,” I answered briefly and clearly, remain vigilant with all possibilities that will happen, at this time I do not want to be provoked by talking a lot. I'll let him take out all his bugs, while I learn what his purpose is to meet me.

“I love Mas Raka, in my eyes she is perfect and low profile. Good listener, where I confide in whatever it is ..., could be Dad, brother and friend.” His eyes were bright, much calmer than the last time we met.

I was still silent, letting him talk. It takes a great heart and a high level of self-control to deal with it, however he is telling me about my husband who honestly is still very dear, in my heart wondering if all actors like this PD?.

The decision not to tell Kayla I think the most appropriate decision, she would definitely not be able to hear it.

“Mbak, go straight. I have no one, let me give birth to this baby, I am unable to persuade Mas Raka to take responsibility, so once again I ask, please Madam Indah who has to leave Mas Raka,” said confidently.

“Sorry, I don't understand what you're talking about,”

“I am tired, chasing the love of Mas Raka whose whole heart belongs to Mbak Indah, several times ever thought of aborting this baby, but afraid of not being able to bear the regret of a lifetime,”

Sipped the coffee that had been served at the table and then continued, continuing,

“Please, Ma'am. I do not care Madam Indah brought all the property and left Mas Raka with a piece of clothing, as long as Mas Raka can be the father of this baby, if Mas Raka leaves us, I'll kill myself.”

“Hei! Do you realize what you are saying??! You are crazy?!” I said in the lowest voice possible so that no one would hear and instead sounded like a growl, he managed to provoke my emotions.

I listened to her words by holding my breath, trying to control myself.

“When you know that Mbak Indah left home honestly I am happy, my opportunity is wide open. But in fact, not a second did Mas Raka turn and even more away .., I was desperate, Mbak.”

“The more I beg the more he stays away. Anyway, my baby needs a whole family, I don't want this kid to live without a father like me.”

“Easy then?? As easy as you ask for everything, can't you try to think for a moment what if it's in my position? What about my kids?”

‘Astagfirullah’ I whispered while rubbing my face, what else is this Oh Allah, I am tired of everything.

“Yes, I am crazy, Ma'am. However, I was also desperate, how else would I behave in this situation? Don't suppose I don't think of you, your children, but I'm an ordinary human being who is of course more concerned with his own children. The child I'm about to give birth to.”

“....”

“Some days I can't sleep well, can't eat. I know that this is also my fault. You know, what hurts the most about all this? Every time I ask why Mas Raka is in a relationship with me, he said because he only uses it, because I need funds to rebuild his company. Who is crazy, actually? Can Mbak Indah imagine how painful it is to hear everything? I even almost chose to commit suicide, if I didn't remember that there was another life in this stomach. This is my last effort, asking for the willingness of Mbak Indah. Leave Mas Raka!" her door. Sounds pushy, but with a little intonation begging.

“Please, take Mas Raka if he really wants to take responsibility, because honestly my heart is not big enough to forgive him, but seeing you pleading like this, is really shameless.”

“That's the business of Mbak Indah, it's up to you to judge me how. Obviously, I am not a hypocrite and will continue to fight for what I have to fight for.”

Sinting, this woman in front of me is completely dead of mind. My mouth was locked against him, not knowing what to say.

🍁🍁🍁

The meeting with Sari made me more crowded, it felt like no words could describe how sick I felt. Looking at the children who are sleeping soundly, who at all times ask the whereabouts of his father just add to this feeling of pain.

How should I explain to my two little angels that their father is no longer entirely theirs. How can I live my days without a husband, and without a job to sustain our lives.

Even though I could have all our possessions and leave Mas Raka without a penny, still I needed a job to support my children and send them to school.

My education was good, it might not be difficult to find a job with a graduate diploma S1 cumlaud, but I can not afford to leave my two children, they have lost a father, they have lost their father, I will not let them feel the lack of a mother's affection.

“Dad ..., father ..., home,” whine Bayu in his sleep. My son's delirious. Maybe a reflection of his feelings all along.

Hearing that, it made me cry again. I took a pillow to smother my lips, so that the sound of this cry could not be heard by them.

I cannot bear God, why do You try your servant with such a terrible ordeal, I may be wrong to lament all these trials of Yours. But really, it's not like carrying everything, alone.

Maybe if only I can still bear it, but not willing if my children feel the same pain, if one day they can digest and understand everything that happens.

🍁🍁🍁

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