Pamite
4. Hidden Facts

After Maghrib I intend to go to Risa's house. Kids with TV and toys. As usual, he was busy with his hape.

"Mas, I'm gonna go out for a minute."

Mas Anang only nodded with eyes still staring at his flat screen.

"Don't just focus on the hape mas. Children are guarded."

Again, Anang just nodded.

I hurried out of the house before any of my children saw me. It's not like I don't want to bother them. I'm just afraid that if one of them comes along, it makes me not focus on my conversation later.

About five minutes I walked, I reached Risa's house. When viewed from the outside, Risa's living room is full of product storefronts that I saw in the application earlier. I suspect that Risa has been successful with her wares. It was evident from the storefront that is displayed more than one and full of goods that I think are not cheap. It must have taken a lot of money to bring in those things.

"Assalamu'alaikum."

"Vaalaikumsalam. Uh mbak Ayu. Let's go in. Sorry there's no chair." Risa welcomed me kindly. It is very visible that he is welcome with everyone, maybe because his habit of selling goods makes it open with new people.

"Sit mbak. I'm going to back."

I just nodded with a smile. My eyes wandered everywhere looking at pretty bags and purses. There are also a lot of beautiful kitchen equipment there. If only I had a lot of money, I could have these expensive things.

"Please mbak, in sambi." Risa came back with drinks and snacks. I feel bad, for bothering him.

"Oh mbak, I'm troubling you. Thank you," I replied.

"Ah not mbak. Just water. Call Risa instead. You're older than me."

"It can be you. Oh yes Ris, I mean to come here I want to be your member. What about I can help you sell your stuff without I have to buy first, meaning I don't need that stock."

"Mbak wants to be my member? It can be very mbak. My members do not need stock goods mbak, gini aja. I live by WA number. Let me go to my goods group later. Ma'am will be able to share the items I sent in the group. Which one do you want to sell?"

"What if everything can be Ris?" ask me slowly. I'm afraid if Risa thinks I'm carded.

"That's a lot mbak. You can sell anything you want."

My conversation continued by exchanging WA numbers. It was from that chat that I learned that Risa started her business from before she got married. His efforts became more successful and developed after marriage. She had the full support of her husband, not only moral but material support.

Hearing the story from Risa made me compare my life with Risa. Comparing the nature of Risa's husband and my husband. It just makes me sting more.

After I felt enough to talk to Risa, I decided to go home. I came home with great joy and hope. I want to be a successful woman without having to rely on anyone. Of course my success I hide from many people.

I've asked Risa not to talk about this to anyone. I asked him to keep it a secret that I was working with him. Of course I didn't explain the real reason. It's the same as making my husband's name bad.

After washing the dishes, I turned off all the lights. Inadvertently the corner netraku see the briefcase mas Anang who is on the living room table. I took it, I sloped the bag right in front of my face. For seven years married at all I did not open what the contents of the bag. And somehow this moment of curiosity I was at the top of my head.

I sat down on the sofa and opened the room in the bag. I started from the front. A paper, I don't know what paper it is.

My forehead frowned as soon as I knew the contents of the paper. My heart was crumbling softly, my hands were shaking violently, my breath was suddenly stingy, my dewy net angle could no longer hold back the speed of the clear liquid I had been holding back.

I found a paper that said my husband checked in at a five-star hotel. For what mas Anang check in at the hotel while the distance of home and work is only one kilometer. And who's checking in with? One room for two? I really don't understand. All women would probably think a no-no if I was in my position.

I returned to rubbing the briefcase mas Anang. I want to know what's in the bag. Really, before finding this, I never thought that Anang would act in that direction. I firmly believe Mas Anang loves me sincerely and will not betray the woman who has given him three children.

Hope lives hope, I found again a security tool to conduct body intercourse. My hands were shaking again, my mind was no longer able to think positively.

I repeatedly said Istighfar in my heart, hoping that I could calm down. I put all the stuff I took back into my husband's bag. I was determined in my heart that I should be able to calm down and control my emotions.

With a broken heart that had somehow become pieces, I walked towards the room. I put Anang's bag in the usual place.

"You haven't slept?" asked Mas Anang as soon as I put down his bag.

"Not yet, I just got home." I walked towards the edge of the bed on the other side. I put myself next to Anin and hugged her.

"You why? How are his eyes red? You sick? Want flu?" ask Mas Anang while sticking the back of his hand to my forehead.

Reflexes I brushed off the hand of Anang. It's such a heartache to remember the contents of his bag. I've been serving and giving up my whole life to her, is this the payoff?

"Why the hell deck? What was? Is it because of mom again? Are you sad because of mom? What is it, the same story as me," said mas Anang softly.

You will surely sob if you harbor sadness and someone asks 'you why?' that's what's happening now. My unanimous determination will be firm no matter where it goes.

Mas Anang immediately got up from his lie down and approached me who was hiding my face behind the palm. He still let me in with a cry, but his hand kept moving slowly stroking the top of my head.

That's what you always do when you're sad. Even from the time I was dating, which is why I didn't want to lose Anang even though there was no blessing from my mother-in-law. She loves me so much, but what if she could do that in a hotel with another woman? It's hard to believe, but this is the truth.

After I calmed down a little, I got up from my lying down and sat down in front of Mas Anang. The man changed his sitting position crouching on the floor to sit next to me.

"I'm sorry mom. You know that the mother of the person is so, expanded patience again yes," said Mas Anang while hugging me.

"That's not what I'm crying about. I'm crying over your briefcase."

At once Mas Anang let go of his embrace and looked at me with his panicked face.