Hot Duda: Love For Rangga
Cuneiform!

I cleaned my phone screen for the third time in twenty minutes. In between I counted the number of stitches on the leather wrapper of the steering wheel: 312, reprogrammed the position of my driver's seat: slightly up and slightly more advanced, then learn the optimal pressure for the type of tire that's in my BMW: thirty PSI in front and thirty-five in back, according to the guidebook in the dashboard drawer.

Boredom also appears.

Maybe I should have called him first.

No, I decided. It was likely that he would dodge or would not even pick up my phone if I called him. Today I have to meet in person. Face-to-face. Even at the risk of my ass falling asleep while waiting in the car.

Where is he?

Ten minutes later I saw from behind my wheel, a flaming red sedan entering the driveway of the late Erlan Nasution's house. The car stopped in front, and the woman came down.

Stella Nasution's. I guess I should add, Wow! As always, always wow!

He leaned over and grabbed onto the back seat to pick up the grocery bag. As always, sexy. His chest was barely covered, and with super wide spaces between his bra-like tops and hot pants. It was as if he had just returned from the beach. But impossible, who wants to go to the beach in the middle of broad daylight that is extra extraordinary heat? She is not the type of woman who likes to sunbathe ala bule. Her skin was white, smooth, and clean - typical of the treatments of super expensive beauty clinics.

After that, with a bag of groceries in his hand, he walked up to me. I got out of the car too. With or without sunglasses, I could see he was staring intently at me.

"What business is it?" He glanced at Billy's car. "Bring the team again?"

She hated me. How, I admit, I was wrong. "Just want to talk good. Can you?"

"For what? Wanna discuss what? Hm? I just finished getting locked up, I can't wear it. Wanna?"

I was flinched, exactly my heart. Feels like a hard bump.

"Why? Shocked? You feel guilty because I miscarried? Hmm?" He moved the groceries into his arms. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Rangga Sanjaya has no heart. Vindictive. Even anyone could die if they dared to disturb. Big boss is cold-blooded."

I swallowed bitterly. If the one who terrorized me was really Stella, then I would consider it natural. He's very hurtful to me. Because of me, she lost her son-in-law.

Stella tilted her head back and laughed to the wind. "Easy then?" his yell.

"Listen," I continued, "I didn't mean to make you miscarry. I just...."

Stella pressed her laughter. "You did. I'm not the one who died, but my son! My boy!" his voice went up an octave. "I just want to have children, and have a good father for my son. What wrong?"

I can't talk, let alone bring up the terror. In my heart, I wanted to say that he was wrong. Not the hope, but the way - the way he wanted to set me up, that's wrong.

Despite everything, Stella laughed. "Well, well, well, do you want me to forgive you?"

I mengesa* and then nodded. "Please?"

Momentary silence.

"There's a condition."

"What?"

"Give me my son."

I can only say one word without being able to continue. "Return it...?"

"My family. Give me a kid."

Basic crazy!