I'm The One You Throw Out
Struggling

Room studded with flower petals was no longer warm, lost romance since the two residents returned a few moments ago. There is no smile embedded, also spoiled chatter that is repeatedly thrown by the woman. Both of them kept quiet with their respective hearts.

"Why do you still think of him? Did you not think about my feelings at all? I am now your wife, Mas," said Lita, who sat on the edge of the bed against Zafran.

He patted his chest that felt tight, then squeezed it a little stronger. How painful he felt when Zafran still recognized Seira as his own.

The man stood by the window, one of his hands clutching the window pole withstanding the emotional turmoil. If only it had not been broken by Jago and his Father-in-law, maybe the man was already battered.

"Tell me, does Mas still love him?" asked Lita while tilting her body to look at Zafran who was unmoved without a word.

Tears melted slowly, there was a pain that slashed deep down to hear Zafran who did not hesitate to say his name. He feels excluded.

"Mas!" snapped impatiently, "answer me! Don't just diem. Do you understand my feelings? I'm your wife, Mum!" he attacked with a cry that ran into the river.

Lita as you pleased, looking down sad. Both hands squeezed the petals of the roses that were sown on their beds. Everything is useless, just in vain romantic decoration. The proof, they actually fight rather than combine love on the first night of marriage.

Zafran closed his eyes, breathing as much air as possible. In order for the feeling of tightness to decompose slowly. He did not understand why the woman was still bothering him. In fact, he should now be happy because he can marry Lita and soon will be a father for the baby in the womb.

"You said you wanted to make me happy, Mom. You said you didn't love her, you said you must have lost her. Why are you still taking him?" lament Lita deepened her face bowed.

Zafran. He did want to forget about Seira, but the shadow of that girl always appeared uninvited. He lowered his head, shaking his head, expelling the last smile Seira saw from his mind.

Lita squeezed her pulsating stomach, grimacing feeling a twisting pain. Aware that the baby in the womb is a weapon that can weaken Zafran's heart. He's back excited.

Lita raised her face, no more sobs. She had tears melt on her cheeks while making plans to use the man's weakness. He turned his head, staring at the strapping back of the fallen Zafran.

Revenge also hate just popped up. It is no longer love, but an ambition that binds his soul.

"Inget, Mom. I'm pregnant with your child again, if you can't forget him, you're also the child in my womb." Lita started to threaten.

While Zafran gasped at the sentence. That kid he's been craving for so long, and Seira can't give. Now, how could he possibly waste the baby.

Zafran lowered the ego, sighing reduced emotions. All harm. It's wrong to not forget Seira. It's also wrong to be too emotional to deal with his own feelings. All the fault of not being able to control yourself.

Zafran closed his eyes before turning around and moving away from the window. He looked at Lita who kept coming back down with shaken shoulders. The tail of his eyes glanced sharply at Zafran who was stepping slowly. Inwardly smiling triumphantly, it was so easy to melt the man's heart.

He waited for Zafran to arrive with mixed feelings. Pleasure, resentment, hate, and all the feelings that are in the heart. The man still wearing the shirt sat beside him, rubbing Lita's shoulders gently and full of regret.

"Sorry, Lita. Not Mas mean so, but Mas also do not know why the shadow he still likes to appear in the mind of Mas. Okay, don't cry. Pity our son in your stomach, he must follow sad to see his parents fight," Zafran gently pleaded.

Lita shook her head, acting as if she was sulking. Merely wanting to see the earnestness of Zafran softened his heart. Pretending to sob for the sake of getting what he wants.

"Darling, sorry. Mas promise from now on will definitely forget him. Help me, yeah. It's not easy and you know it, right? You want to help me, right?" said Zafran again made a promise that he really could not keep.

His tongue did say that, but his heart refused. Zafran's heart could not guarantee that Seira's name would fade from his throne. The woman never threatened, smart to make the hot atmosphere become dim.

Hearing Zafran's promise again, Lita eased her cries. She slowly turned her head and looked at her husband with wet eyes.

"Mas really a promise? No boong?" asked Lita not separated maniknya look at the two eyes of Zafran who is cute.

The man smiled, nodding lightly as he pulled the wife's body into the embrace. Pecking the tubun though reluctant, for the sake of the baby whatever he will do.

"Don't cry anymore, yeah. Now Mas want to collect your promise that he says he wants to love Mas special service tonight," Zafran tease melt the atmosphere and restore romance.

A sense of heat spread across Lita's face, making a red hue on both cheeks. His lips smiled happily, nodding shyly. That night the sacred rites of love they must run. In order to bind the sense that has been present before, and strengthen the foundation of their household.

Long nights should indeed be very sacred for a couple of newlyweds, the union of two bodies and a passionate taste presents endless love. Unlike Lita who studied her role as a wife, Zafran actually imagined if it was Seira.

His body was indeed there with Lita, but his soul floated looking for Seira. On the first night of their marriage, Zafran had betrayed him. Cheating with the shadow of an ex-wife who does not want to go out of mind.

Maafin Mas, Lita. Mas can't yet lupain Sei. He was too influential in my life. Hopefully in the future, Mas can spare him. So that we can be happy with the children later.

Zafran's heart is hypocritical, above his body now is Lita, not Seira. But deep down, I wish she was my ex-wife. The woman he fought desperately for could marry him first.

The night continued to peak, but the two men were still struggling with their activities. Unlike Seira, pensive on a bed made of wood and only covered with a thin mattress.

Bi Sari said, there is only one bed that is still worth using. With the middle-aged woman sleeping beside him. The night feels long, until late at night the eyes are not closed. Uncertain restlessness, thinking about his future self-determination.

Seira swept her still flat stomach, sighing deeply before assuring the heart that everything would be able to go through despite being alone.

Nothing is impossible in this world, if we are confident and fearless, dear. Patience, yes. It's quiet in Mom's stomach. We live all this together.