Tear Flower
Chapter 8's
It's been three days since Ayana was hospitalized. During that time Gibran as his sister-in-law continued to keep and accompany him there, while Zidan never returned again.
She knew her husband was enjoying his time with Bella. He can only give up on the situation and accept what is going to happen.
The door of the hospital room opened featuring a tall, strapping man coming inside. Gibran returned with a basket of fruit.
He commented with a smile when he saw Ayana just like yesterday, just sitting quietly on the bed while looking out.
"Mbak Ayana I have come bearing much fruit. There are apples, too, Mbak's favorite" Gibran said, landing himself in the chair next to his brother-in-law.
"Sir," call him again.
"Mad Ayana."
"WALK!"
Gibran continued to call Ayana, but even though the owner of the name did not touch him. He began to get caught off guard and then sat on a gurney right in front of his sister-in-law.
Hearing the creaking bed, Ayana turned her head briefly and looked back at the laur where the sky was bright this afternoon.
"Isn't the sky so pretty? It's beautiful for a baby to be present in this world" Ayana said.
A single tear soaked his patient's shirt. A faint smile was present looking at the clouds marching up there.
"Sorry ... Mom is really sorry. You should see the beauty of this world. I'm sorry you hurt you. Mama's sorry." Ayana continued to say sorry repeatedly.
His frail body trembled violently remembering the pain of losing the baby. He cried and cried every time Gibran visited him.
Gibran could not say the sad news to his parents. They have just arrived in the destination country it is impossible to return. He hoped that before his father and mother knew about it, his brother regretted his actions.
However, it was just wishful thinking. He realized that Zidan would not be that easy to change his mind. He knows his first brother character.
"No more crying, let go of his departure and don't blame yourself. God loved him so much that He took it back. Do not be sad God must have prepared the best for Mbak," said Gibran corroborated.
Ayana went back to silence without answering a word. His heart was tired of the wounds that continued to grow every day. There was no happiness in that marriage. The husband never considered her as a wife.
"Mad better rest, the doctor said later in the afternoon Mbak can go home," continued Gibran helped Ayana to lie down.
"Then I leave first and then come back to pick up Ma'am" he said and immediately set foot from there.
Silent again greeting so strongly, Ayana continued to look at the ceiling of the room where event after event perched in memory.
A classic movie that plays again shows bitter memories greeting the deepest recesses of the heart. Ayana gripped the blanket wrapped around her.
"I can no longer stand it" she continued to hold sobs.
As previously scheduled, in the afternoon Ayana was able to go home. It was not her husband who picked her up at the hospital, but her sister-in-law. Gibran was so deft to help his sister's wife get out of the car.
"Be careful, Ma'am," said Gibran warmly.
Slowly Ayana went into the house looking around where she had been there for six years.
Teak wood doors are wide open, the first thing caught sight is the husband who is being held friendly by his honey.
Whichever woman is unharmed when she is down she needs a companion by her side, but her legal husband prefers to be with another woman.
"Oh, you're home? Thank goodness," said Bella looking at him.
Ayana immediately snarled from before them without saying a single word. His heart was already too sick and injured for the treatment they gave.
"Mas has no heart. Your wife just lost her baby and could you be together like this? Your hearts are dead." Gibran grimly looked at the two sharply and left the brother's residence.
"Basically he has no manners to his own brother," said Bella.
Zidan let go of his arms and walked towards the study. The woman looked back at her disappearance. A smile of victory was imprinted on that beautiful face.
"Oh this is very interesting," he murmured.
...***...
The night returns, from her return, Ayana spends time in her own studio. Line by line formed a beautiful image that invited tears.
The clear liquid melts like a river on both cheeks usher in a mother's deepest feelings.
Ayana paints a baby who is closed and surrounded by clouds. The gradation of white and peach color is showing longing and loss to the baby.
"You're sorry, you can't take good care of you" he said.
Not long after the studio door opened someone, Ayana hurriedly wiped away the tears and ignored her arrival.
The sound of footsteps drew closer, a sweet scent swept over the smell. Without looking back he knew who the person who disturbed his calm was.
"Would you like to come here?" tanyanya cold.
"Ayana, honey, you don't suck at it like that. I'm your schoolmate, so you should treat me well" he said.
Panting, Ayana also turned her body and looked up to meet her interlocutor.
"What do you want, Bella?"
"I want to tell you something." Bella also walked closer, her body all the way down and close the lips to Ayana's earlobe.
"You know .. actually I told our husband to have sex with you excessively. In order for you to lose that damn baby, Zidan indirectly killed his own child," he explained and pulled himself back.
"Didn't you see it for yourself?"
Ayana got up from sitting, the brush she had used to paint slipped out of her grasp. Tears that have dried out again can not be prevented.
Seeing her incredible reaction, Bella chuckled and patted Ayanas shoulder softly.
"Mas Zidan does not want to have a child from you, Ayana. Because he doesn't love you at all. He loves me so much, so we're not the same. See you soon, I hope you can think clearly."
Bella also left a million painful feelings that pierced her simultaneously. The arrow kept darting into his heart tore at the feeling.
Ayana cried with her chest up and down holding tightness. He clenched his hands tightly, his eyes reddened and emotions bursting.
Without heeding anything he went berserk ruining all the paintings he had already made. Oil paint spilled scattered, painting equipment slammed firmly into the wall produces a thumping sound.
The white style is overwritten by a lot of colors mixed with tears. Only one painting remains, a picture of a newborn baby.
Ayana who was standing in the middle of the room turned her head to the right side with a sharp look of eyes staring at the painting.
"I can't continue living like this," his mind grew a strong determination.