Love Mas Cousin
Jema Ibra's
***
Because Bassta and Larisa were silent. Arif returned a complaint. “You're the same Larisa is going to be a parent. Can you as a household leader be mature?”
Bassta took a deep breath, why is he the one who got hit?
“What does Papa think I am?” bassta replied that he was offended.
“You are senile, Bass,” said Larisa in heart. “No self-consciousness you were always rough with me.”
Larisa could only murmur unacceptably.
“The papa sees you have nothing to change even though you are married,” said Arif complaining.
“More Papa worries about Larisa's condition with her baby if you keep this up. All pregnant women are the same, need to be taken care of with extra!” Arif continued with great emphasis.
Bassta's mouth is open, wants to chimed but Arif continues to accuse and ask him to be more responsible.
Larisa was silent with her face bent, hence Bassta was blamed. Larisa had wanted to speak in defense but under the table suddenly Bassta grabbed her hand, a code of request for her to keep quiet. Let Arif speak as he pleases.
After Arif looked calm, then Bassta prepared to say something.
“Iya I was wrong, Pa. I can't be a good husband yet. Vivian complaint yesterday really, really!” said Bassta and Larisa staring with watery eyes, is Bassta going to reveal honesty now? Larisa feels awkward.
Arif put a smile to hear his son want to be frank even though Bassta had thought of a lie since his father was raving.
“I'm the same Larisa again fight that time.” Bassta turned her head and looked at Larisa next to her. “We had a storm and the arrival of Fiona's sister Vivian was so sudden.”
Larisa is stunned to see the beautiful curve of the face of the husband who is equipped with a shady gaze.
“We separate rooms after a big storm. Whatever the problem, I'm the same Larisa agreed to keep it between the two of us, no need to bring their parents.”
Bassta smiled slightly and Larisa turned to Arif at a glance. The middle-aged man looked amazed to hear the lies his son was telling.
“But now we've improved.” Bassta clasped Larisa's hand, pulling her from under the table to the table so Arif could see it. “We slept in the room again. Ask your mom if you don't believe.” He connected finely and his eyebrows twitched when he felt cold and slippery hands Larisa because of sweating.
“That's right, Ris?” Arif.
Larisa turned her head and nodded strongly.
“Sorry because it has made Papa bother with intervening to overcome our problems both,” said Larisa politely.
Arif smiled broadly.
“Olders are indeed his duties as mediator. Thank goodness that you guys are fine, a little bit of a check is natural. Like cooking will not taste good without spices, households also so, as long as the seasoning is not mostly aja.”
The three laughed together. Then Bassta took off her hand. Because they had spent a long time, Arif said goodbye because there was an appointment to visit his friend while Bassta also had an appointment to meet with Jema.
Larisa? I don't know.....
***
The echo from behind looked at the back of the man's head cynically.
“Ke Mall. I have an appointment, and stop calling me mother! You think I'm that old?” jema jolt and was replied with a small nod by Ibra.
“Sorry, Mom, uh..iya we are to the Mall now.” Ibra nervous.
Jema snorted sebal.
“Call me Jema aja.”
Ibra nodded obediently then took the time to glance at the woman behind her from the rearview mirror.
Beautiful, charming, that's how Ibra praised Jema to the extent of his heart because to be spoken directly, he could have been hung. His father had constantly reminded him, but his name was the feeling why it was so difficult to control.
Like a rumpuk who wants the moon. Ibra looked at him and Jema was not far from it. It is difficult to achieve let alone force yourself to want to have.
Paras the mediocre, the contents of the wallet that sometimes exist and more often empty. It seemed impossible for Ibra to even venture a little to express her joy to the special woman in her heart. I wish that was what Ibra kept doing.
An intoxicating delusion, the slow sea incarcerates to misery.
Jema is smiling now, tidying her hair also checking her makeup. He will meet Bassta as well as shopping. Jema and Bassta meet for another hour, but now she's on the slide, wanting to visit her friend at a jewelry store where Sally is waiting.
Jema did not know that the man she had always missed was in the same place.
Jema exited after Ibra opened the car door. Jema stepped in and Ibra was behind her guard. Monica warns Ibra to take care of her daughter who always act. Monica believes Ibra is the son of a driver who has served her family for years.
“Don't get too close to me. I do not want anyone to capture this moment and make it a gossip!” tegur Jema was hard and Ibra immediately rewinded so as not to align with him.
“Males very if digosipin strangely same driver,” mumbled Jema but his murmur can still be caught by Indra hearing him Ibra.
His heart felt squeezed, Ibra immediately moody to hear Jema's carefree speech.
After working as a driver in his dream family. Ibra who originally thought that Jema has a beautiful attitude as well as the beauty of the face he has. But he turned out to be wrong to suspect, the assessment of a person's character can not be judged by his appearance.
The two set foot on the escalator stairs. Jema lifted her head, looking around from behind her sunglasses. His lips instantly swooped, his eyebrows instantly furrowing when he caught a glimpse of his lover.
“Bassta? She's coming now?” jema said in his heart.
His feet are now on tiptoes, trying to see a man wearing all-black clothes in a white shirt. It was only as great as he saw it, but Jema knew very well the body gesture of his lover to the depths.
However, what made him uneasy and confused was the female figure that seemed to be walking next to Bassta. Look close and who is it? Why and why do they walk together?
An unpleasant feeling emerged dominating his mind. The accusation of one and the other is torturing each other's head. Is it true that he just saw Bassta?