His Purpose
138. Heartaches

Gibran stared at the sleeping Mary. He recalled the doctor's explanation this afternoon. The nosebleed that Maria experienced because it was triggered by a hard hit in her brain, too excessive in thinking to trigger sudden stress that eventually led to the release of blood from the nose.

Laura said the last time the woman was watching a drama was on a pay-TV channel. Gibran until contacting the channel developer to find out what shows are broadcasted at this hour.

And Gibran's attention falls on a drama set against the backdrop of the Swiss state, timed to coincide with before Maria collapses. Gibran suspects that something from the country is triggering Maria's memory.

Sighing deeply, Gibran got up from the side of the bed and turned to look at the window. He stood cross-legged after opening the curtains slightly to display the pitch-black outside view.

"Senior, if one day we get married, I want us to make a home in Switzerland. See, this vacant land is perfect for building a dwelling. The cool air of beautiful mountains and lakes will really feel comfortable. One more thing, I'll stay young if I stay there."

"Young bet?"

"Huum. In such a peaceful nature, it is unlikely that we will feel stressed. Even if we are stressed we can reconcile ourselves by pervading the beauty of nature."

"But there's one thing that's important so I can stay young."

"What?"

"Have a rich and loyal husband. Hehe. So, if Senior wants to marry me Senior must have a lot of money, and of course Senior must be loyal. There is no tolerance for infidelity and violence. Yes, Senior mustn't be rude to me either."

Gibran inhaled a deep breath of air holding back a spill that was as hard as he could have contained in his eyes. He looked down at his sandal-clad feet. "Why was I so stupid?" his murmur almost resembled a whisper.

Gibran looked at Maria for a moment. Feeling that Maria would not wake up, Gibran decided to leave the room for a while.

Gibran's goal was the kitchen. He needed something bitter to put a damper on all the rampage in his brain.

Just about to make coffee suddenly Rayan's voice burst out. "Whiskey needed? Or ... vodka?"

Gibran. Her father-in-law was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed staring at her.

Gibran raised an eyebrow. Tumben once Rayan reprimanded him. He grunts. "Say you need a friend."

Rayan shrugged, she turned around indifferently leaving the kitchen. Gibran was silent for a moment before he decided to follow the middle-aged man.

Rayan opened the door of a room that turned out to contain a billiard table and a bar with various kinds of alcohol neatly lined up in a high closet.

The man took a bottle of whiskey and ice cubes in the refrigerator, and two glasses, one of which was handed over to Gibran.

Gibran was silent when Rayan added the ice and started filling the two glasses.

Silence accompanies the togetherness of those who are very rare. Never once did Gibran regard Rayan as his in-law, nor did Rayan refuse to accept Gibran as his son-in-law.

Both of them seemed to be in different high bulkheads.

"It seems like Mary's memory is starting to be vulnerable." Rayan opened her voice. He then took a slow sip of the yellow liquid in his glass.

Gibran also did the same thing, he turned the glass plan and observed the movement of ice cubes in it.

"Then, a few months after she officially became a student at a college in New York, she often told me that she seemed to be in love."

"Every time we communicate, surely what Maria tells us is an unusually charming, handsome senior figure." Rayan chuckles tastelessly. He sipped whiskey back in his glass.

The man turned to Gibran who was faithfully listening. He continued the story while looking at the man beside him.

"Nearly two years everything went well. He said he managed to make the man of his dreams a girlfriend. He's dating a guy that a lot of women want."

"Mary sounded very happy that time. Until one night Maria called me crying."

Gibran slightly glanced at his in-laws as he sipped on whiskey.

"Mary didn't say anything. It's just .. I don't know, he said as if he was leaving me, " whispered Rayan at the end of his sentence. He looked down at the glass on the table.

Gibran looked quickly. He had forgotten his glass which still contained half.

"I don't know what's going on. Maria sounded very scared. And then I heard someone else's voice."

"Who?" gibran asked, beginning to wonder.

But Rayan shook her head. "I don't know. But I'm sure something was threatening Maria at the time. I haven't been able to find out because upon Liem's arrival in America he called immediately that Maria had an accident."

It seemed like Rayan was starting to be not strong as her voice started to tremble. He also started to get drunk. While Gibran fluttered with his sculpting body.

"Maria threatened? Tell me, what did you know back then?" insist Gibran.

But again Rayan answered with a slit. Gibran clucked in annoyance and swiggered the remaining whiskey in his glass. He then held the hand of Rayan who was about to pour back the alcoholic drink.

"I didn't know you were this bad when you drank." Gibran pulled his in-laws arm to stand up. "Then you're no different from Maria" he continued grumbling.

Gibran took Rayan to his room and rolled the man into bed with a slight roughness. Then he turned around to leave when suddenly Rayan muttered.

"Willis .. they are demons" the man whispered almost inaudibly.

Gibran was glued for a long time there, then his feet began to slowly step out of Rayan's room. His eyes are not focused as they are thinking.

Willis.

Has Maria been under constant threat from her family? Gibran recalled finding a bruise on the girl's temple. When asked Maria only answered to hit the closet.

Gibran went back upstairs, he opened the door to Mary's room quietly. The woman is still deep in sleep. His mouth was so open half.

Gibran approaching. He stared fixedly at the peaceful wife's face while trying to swallow the saliva that clumped in the esophagus.

Gibran's body began to tremble with emotions that slowly burst onto the surface. His breathing began to be irregular as he rested at the foot of the bed, followed by his shoulders shaking with a sobbing.

Gibran slouched his face on the edge of the mattress and wept over everything that had happened in the past.

Her stupidity, her abiding attitude towards Maria, as well as her unwilling irritation were responsible for the woman's pregnancy.

You're right, I'm a heartless demon.