His Purpose
35. Complicated

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I went to the toilet for a second."

Valencia looked up and immediately smiled to find the lover sitting in front of him. "No problem. But I almost invited another man to take your place to sit there" he joked.

The man snorted a smile, "You won't be able to do it because you love me too much."

Valencia turned the eyeball, "Of course you can. Love is not strong enough to be a reason to turn away."

"alright. I'm sorry. Next time I'll tell you even if I poop once."

"Ish, not like that either. You can talk about slovenly things when we want to eat."

The man laughed softly, "You started it, honey. Remember that."

Valencia sneered. He did not reply to the man's jokes because a waitress came to them. The two also ordered various dishes and ate quietly while occasionally talking like a couple in general.

***

Gibran put away the face. His breath gasped at Maria who was also staring at him. Both of them dissolved in a quiet atmosphere that enveloped. However, the hot atmosphere immediately attacked without being prevented.

"Co-Cocco ..."

Gibran kissed Maria again. She clenched her lips in such a hurry that there was no time for Mary to refuse.

"Enh ..." Maria couldn't hold back the grunts. Especially as Gibran pressed his body further, eroding the distance between them.

Gibran took off his pagutan and turned back away. It was like he was thinking of something. His eyes were tightly closed as if he was holding a heavy weight.

"Cococo?" wept Mary because Gibran was suddenly out of the way. Gibran's attitude confused him.

The man took a few steps back, leaning his body with his head turned. Gibran seemed to be trying to neutralize the breath. Then the man snorted and spoke to himself. "Why should I bother like this?"

Silent. Mary looked in silence. I don't know what, but his heart was a little disappointed. Why Gibran often plays with his heart.

Gibran. This made Mary stunned because Gibran's gaze looked foreign. Look at his eyes when they first met.

"We're coming home tonight, too" said Gibran, coldly.

"Why all of a sudden?" Maria stammered.

Gibran did not answer. The man exited as soon as the elevator door opened on the floor of their room. Maria was rushing after Gibran, he was eager to ask about the man's changing attitude to him.

"Koko—" Maria held back when she saw Gibran facing a foreign man.

He walked slowly toward the two men, standing beside Gibran with a look of astonishment.

"Your wife?" ask the man with bule stature.

Maria smiled to introduce herself. But Gibran lowered his outstretched hand and looked at him full of warning. "Come in first" he said in English.

Maria had no other choice. Her lips stiffened as she slowly moved closer to her room. Something seemed to pinch his heart. He felt Gibran was setting boundaries and told him to be self-aware that he was still standing outside the circle.

What Gibran really thought. Suddenly the man kissed her, and then it turned like an iceberg frozen and the air made him shiver.

Mary opened and closed the door behind her. He leaned back for a moment while looking at his heart. Without him noticing, his feelings began to waver without direction.

On the one hand, he went mad and reaped hope on Gibran. But on the other hand he also felt scared and guilty. Especially when he accidentally heard Gibran talk with a bule man out there. Something about Gibran's engagement to a woman who knows.

Maria snorted little. He looked down and smiled at the floor below. "Why am I being so sentimental?" whisper to yourself.

"When I knew something like this would happen."

"I should have been conscious and kept limiting my heart."

Mary took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But why am I a little bit disinclined? Why is my chest so tight?" mumbling again.

Is it really just a little? So why does she want to cry now?

***

Gibran entered just minutes before midnight. The man took off his shirt coat and buttons when Maria suddenly rebuked. The woman was on the couch watching TV.

"I'm done cleaning up" he said.

"Hm." Gibran muttered before then walking towards the bathroom.

"Can I pack Koko's things?"

Gibran stopped at the doorway. "Whatever."

"Okay," Mary replied shortly as she watched Gibran's back disappear behind the bathroom.

He sighed lowering his feet from the sofa and began packing Gibran's clothes and other items.

The two were silent, even as Gibran's private plane to take them back to Indonesia took off at Bangkok's international airport in Thailand.

Until the next day they arrived at the mansion, neither Gibran nor Maria remained silent without saying a word. Nick who thought maybe the two were fighting also chose silence without daring to interfere.

Apparently the atmosphere flowed throughout the inhabitants of the mansion. Especially Laura who was suddenly awkward when she called out to welcome Maria's arrival. He caught the look of the mistress who he thought was very unusual.

"Mother Martha, these are all souvenirs and souvenirs for the officers. Please share, okay? Sorry if my request is disrespectful." Maria pointed to a large number of bags that had previously been carried by several bodyguards.

Martha as the butler also bowed respectfully, inwardly uncomfortable with Mary's last words.

"Good, Mistress. Thank you for your generosity. You can ask me or anything else. Please don't hesitate."

Mary smiled a little. He enters the elevator with Laura who follows him immediately. Coinciding with Gibran and Nick who walked in later.

The man paid no heed to the welcome the maids gave. His voice was half as arrogant as usual. The two sauntered up the stairs to Gibran's study in the left wing of the mansion. Without knowing the servants muttered to each other questioning the oddity they felt.

"Tightening care. Be careful when accepting guests who are known or unknown. Evan knows where I am. It was not impossible after this that he complained to the woman." Gibran spoke before entering the room.

He unbuttoned some of his shirt and threw himself on the sofa, leaning back with both arms folded under his head. His eyes closed peacefully, before Nick's voice broke the silence.

"Master, don't your arms still hurt?" Nick remembered the gunshot wound caused by him.

"One bullet is nothing to me" Gibran said.

Nick blinked confused, occasionally staring at Gibran with a look of thought. "But .. yesterday you were so spoiled for Madam," he murmured in wonder whether Gibran heard it or not.