RUSTING BOAT
Chapters. 64

Syafrie laughed at my words. I also laughed.

We laughed together too...

That morning, for the first time in our second marriage, we shared a laugh together....

...----...

I think I'm a woman with a thick steel. The bitterness of the suffering of life makes me a strong and resilient woman. So when the pain returned from the wound inflicted by Mas Haris I thought I would be able to handle it.

But I was actually wrong...

Today a courier from us has come to deliver the package addressed to Syafrie. When I opened, I found an Invitation in pink heart with gold ink.

When I read the initials written on the front cover of the invitation, I realized that what I had been fighting for all this time was over. I was stunned and numb. My hands shook withstanding the pain in my chest. There was an emotion that suddenly came crashing down on the chest. Sad, jealous, angry, all become one in the chest.

No need to open further, I already know who the owner of the initials 'I' and 'H' is.

Today, the world suddenly seems to be collapsing. My heart is still hard to accept the fact that someone I still miss, has now turned my heart to another field of love. Mas Haris did all this without mercy.

Someone came and approached me. He is Fadil, my son who just came home from playing with his friend.

" Mama... why daydream here? " His hand stretched out to reach my hand intending to salim. After that his eyes were fixed on the invitation in my hands. " Who are you from, mah?" tanyanya wants to know. The granddaughter of the mother took over the invitation in my hand and opened it.

I did not answer my Son's question but just kept quiet while watching all the movements - growled Fadil. By God, I can no longer speak or move. My spirit seems to float leaving the body.

I'm really heartbroken. Only now do I feel the name of a broken heart. The pain can kill you. Right now, what was on my mind were all things related to Mas Haris. All the sweet memories I went through with that man seemed to still be neatly imprinted in your memory. If only I hadn't gotten late and been lulled in the man's attention and love. Maybe it won't be the way I find it. The thing is, I was too washed away and dissolved in the cradle of Mas Haris's love song until I finally put some high on the man.

To this day, this piece of invitation paper made me realize that Mas Haris had killed once again an Asthma out of love.

" Is this Haris ya Mah, who is getting married? " said the boy, flipping the invitation in his hand.

" Om Haris is very handsome. His future wife is also beautiful, Mah." said the son of Syafrie without knowing how much my heart feels in the iris and spilled by orange juice.

I looked at the photo of Mas Haris and the woman. Instantly, my hands clenched and trembled. My hair bristled and suddenly, the tears that I had been holding back had finally escaped as well. I cried howling like a fisherman left for dead.

" Mah... mamah why? " Fadil who was engrossed in reading the invitation crouched over to me. His face looks worried.

I didn't answer but hardened my cries. " Mom, why? Is anyone sick? Ma.. " Fadil's hand wiped my tears and then turned to my stomach. Gently rubbing my stomach.

The more sad I am with the attitude of Fadil until my crying becomes more and more. My breath's wheezing. Fadil became panicked. My son then pulled also into his arms. " Mom, why, anyway. Mama sad? What makes you sad. Same story Fadil, yes." he persuaded. I just shook her shoulder from behind her shoulder.

" A minute, Mah. Fadil get me a drink, first." Fadil's eyes darted to and fro looking for a houseman. " People are home on where, anyway. Why is mamah in this barin like this." Apparently the boy could not bear to leave me alone.

I looked towards Fadil. For some reason, the evil thoughts that I had long ago cast far away, are now back in possession. If it wasn't for Fadil and the child in my stomach that was a hindrance, it might not be the photo of that woman in this invitation.

So I grabbed my son's arm, grabbed him a little rough. I don't know where to push, I want to hurt my son. As much as I can, I wrestle with the anger that permeates within me.

" Mah... mamah why? " ask my son confused.

I subconsciously took my hand off on Fadil's arm. Staring at Fadil with feelings of gamelan and guilt that burst. Oh, my God, I almost hurt my own son because of heartache.

" Granny...! Please... mamah possessed...!" my son ran in fear looking for his grandmother.

My cries are getting louder and sounding bitter. I was crying so much. I don't know. I can't hold back anymore.

Twice betrayed... I don't know how my heart is shaped.

I drowned in the mud of grief.

After all that, I locked myself in my room. I locked the doors and windows. Turn off the lights and lie on a pile of pillows while covering my body with a blanket. I need it myself. I need space and time to rethink all the actions I will take so as not to harm myself and others. Even though I was drowning in a sea of sadness.

Mom knocked repeatedly on the door, invited me to talk and persuaded me to fill my stomach. Because from this morning until this afternoon, no food entered my stomach. However, I ignored my mother's invitation.

Just being alone in the room while curled up made me feel a little comfortable. I tied my aching head with a cloth so that the pain would be slightly lessened. Well.the thoughts that are in my mind about Mas Haris make my headache come back to attack.

My phone screen lit up many times and again the tone of the call on my phone rang. It's on the screen 'The Traitor' . I don't know how many calls. Mama may have called the father of the baby in my womb and complained everything.

I grabbed the rectangular thing and shifted its surface. Then press the green application. Gee whiz... There were fifty notifications from Syafrie there. They all asked me how I was doing. There were also dozens of missed calls. It all came from my son's father.

Well, apparently the news about me has reached the ears of my daughter-in-law.

(Not like that, baby. Sorry I can't go home yet. There's a problem with some heavy equipment here.. Wait for me a minute.. I hope you are patient)

A message from Syafrie is back in via whatsapp.

I ignored the message and went back in bed with pillows and blankets. Drown myself there.

(Don't roll like that, pity our child in your stomach. He could have trouble breathing.)

Gee whiz... How can Syafrie know what my behavior is in this room. I woke up and found the blanket covering my body. The blanket fell to the floor with the pillow that had covered my body. My eyes looked up at every corner of my room. Is it possible that Syafrie installed CCTV in this room?

Gosh... how outrageous then. He spied on me.

You sneaky..! perverted..! It's so fucking rude of him. The man had apparently installed a reconnaissance device over the ventilation of my room window that led directly to the door.

I shook my head. Since when did the man who is said to be the most handsome in the village like Rahmat install the tool?

Has it been a while? Did you see me go berserk and try to kill myself or kill him?

I was so angry at Marina's ex-husband that I wrote a reply to the man.

(Cursed are you Shafrie)

Then here I am now. Spending time at the night market with Saniah. The Night Market in Marangkayu village is held every week. Every Friday night.

The roadside market stands right along the sidewalk that crosses the road along the Samarinda - Sangatta causeway.

Incidentally, when I came, the market tonight just opened. In this village, there is also a family of mama who live not far from the night market. Precisely near Puskesmas Marangkayu.So I accidentally stopped by the family's house before guerrilla to the night market.

Luckily for me, apparently Jubair's house, my best friend's husband was also near here. So. I smiled cunningly. In the brain of this pregnant woman has arranged a devious plan for her best friend's husband.