Why Different?
All Alone Crying Ugly's
Since hearing firsthand the unkind talk about Zahira from her female counterpart, Juan has become more overprotective. Within a day, he could message Zahira dozens or even dozens of times, just to make sure that she was okay and her day was going well. Not just that, though, he also took advantage of the connections his parents had to put a confidant in the hospital where Zahira was on duty so that he could soon find out if anyone tried to disturb his lover.
“So you know why again, anyway, Ju?” a similar question Zahira has asked six times today. The other five were given a short message, while the sixth was asked over a phone call between breaks.
“Why what the hell, dear? Is there anything strange, right? Kan, enggak.”
“Ada.” Zahira sounds a little tough. Something that was rare because the woman usually never raised her voice to anyone. “You're strange, Ju. In a day can send dozens of chats whose contents are not far from whether I am happy or not, is there anything that bothers me or is there anything that makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“That's the name care. Why is it so weird?” Juan was still trying to keep the wound tight by himself. He would not voluntarily tell Zahira about the real reason why his attitude had become excessive.
“So strange because of your excessive attitude, Ju. You make me feel like kayak .. You're hiding something.”
“Hidden what the hell, Za?”
“Yes don't know. Maybe you ... cheated?”
The movement of Juan's hand that was typing something on the keyboard immediately stopped. He sighed softly, breaking the rambutan that began to lengthen with a frustrated motion. Fortunately, the workspace was already quiet because his other colleagues had gone home half an hour ago so he did not have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on his conversation with Zahira.
“Check did you say?” there was a great disappointment in Juan's tone of voice. Of the many prejudices that could have been charged to him, why did Zahira have to offer that one? Why is it as if the way she looks at herself is the same as most people who think she is an unfaithful jerk? “A little bit of thought in my head to ogleh other women, let alone to cheat.”
“I just nanya.”
“It's not a question, it's a charge.” Perhaps, it was the first time Juan was insistent against Zahira. It was clear, he would also regret it later, when the emotions that filled his chest were no longer there. “Other people can think like that about me, they can think of me as an unfaithful bastard who likes to plunge here and there at will. But, Za, if you even think like that, what would I be? How can I think well of myself if even my loved ones cannot trust me?”
“Neither I mean, Ju.”
“I know I'm a bastard.” Juan decided to no longer care about his work. The wheeled work chair he was sitting on rotated, allowing him to now cast a glance out the window to see the dense expanse of the night sky. “But cheating is the most damned thing, which I will never do once in my life.”
For the affair in Juan's eyes was a short journey to destruction. During his life, he had been shown so many scenes of infidelity from the closest people. And during that time, he was made to understand that the end of an affair was only a vengeful, angry and undeniable division.
“Anyone can hesitate, as long as it is not you.”
“Ju,”
“Sorry if the messages I send even make you annoyed and so think nonchalantly. I just want you to be safe and comfortable, that's all. But if it turns out that what I did did not have any positive impact on you, yes okay, I will not sell again.”
“I know you're tired, Za. Same, I'm tired too. We're both tired and all I can do for you is just make sure you're okay because I realize I can't always be by your side. The time we have to meet a little, it's also always we finish to discuss many things until we sometimes forget to say kangen to each other.”
“Ju, I—“
“Once again I apologize for making you uncomfortable.” Again, Juan cut off Zahira's words. Either way, his head only suddenly felt full and he was afraid that he would blow his emotions in a big way if he remained silent letting Zahira continue her words. He was not ready to hear a sentence that was not pleasing to his heart. No, after the cheating charge just slid off Zahira's lips.
“That night, I have to go home. You still have to visit, right? I hung up the phone, yeah, you're fine there.”
Throughout their 5-year history of dating, Juan almost never turned off the phone first, especially with a messy heart condition like now. But tonight, she did a lot of new things the first time she did while dating Zahira.
“Ah, bastard.” Juan pulled his own hair, strong enough to make his scalp feel like peeling and a few strands of hair fall out immediately. “Lo bastard, Ju.”
...****************...
In a dark, quiet corner of the emergency stairs, Zahira sobbed after her phone was unilaterally turned off by Juan. It was the first, and the pain turned out to be quite overwhelming.
Indeed, Zahira admitted that he had been wrong. Although there is absolutely no intention of him to accuse Juan of cheating, but the way he asked could indeed make the man offended.
Zahira cursed, cursing himself who was too stupid to read the situation. Though of the many people on earth, he is the one who knows best how infidelity is a sensitive thing for a Juananda Saputra. He knew best, but he also threw the charges at the man.
Stuffy. Zahira hit his chest many times in hopes of helping his chest become more relieved so that he could catch his breath properly. But it turns out, he actually increasingly felt difficulty breathing because the tears that flooded his face also made his nose clogged.
For 5 years dating Juan, this was the first time he cried so much.
“Sorry, Ju...” as much as he apologizes, Juan won't be able to hear it. Instead, the apology reached the ears of someone who was quietly standing behind a wall, watching the woman he had admired for the past few months sobbing for reasons he did not know.
Instead of walking closer and acting pretentious by offering a handkerchief like what is usually in romance dramas, the person prefers to sit down on a dirty floor. His back and head were leaning against the cold patch, while his ears were still being opened wide to hear every sobbing coming out of Zahira's lips.
Zayyan, a 29-year-old doctor, gave up his time off, preferring to accompany Zahira to tears rather than lay down to sleep while there was time.
Increasingly, Zahira's cries became increasingly bitter, while Zayyan still faithfully bore witness to how broken her heart was.
Seriate
