The actor? Who's Afraid!
Surrender

"You can be trusted?"

'B-can, Ma!'

"Do you have information from a trusted source?"

'I-yes, Ma'am. Informers have a close relationship with the target. Information is confirmed to be accurate.'

My eyes scanned the surroundings, making sure Zain did not come behind me all of a sudden.

"Who's the informer?" I asked back after making sure Zain was still meditating in the back garden of his favorite place.

This morning Zain kekeh returned home, after presenting a drama at the Hospital. I, as a wife, have to sign a contract. If something happens can not blame the Hospital because the patient went home with his own wishes. Sometimes Zain is very childish.

'That's a company secret, ma'am. I cannot reveal the identity of the informer. Ma'am, just sit sweetly at home. Let me dig up as much information as possible.' he said sound convincing.

I nodded, agreeing to his reasons. It seems that the detective's recommendation from Melda, not to disappoint, proved she sat-set sat-set, signifying a hard worker, not just eating a blind paycheck.

"Your informant, a man?"

'Not Ma'am, she's a woman.' He heard her breath.

"Why do you call it informant, not informladies?"

'Udahlah, Ma'am. You're hampering work."

I frowned hearing his words.

"I'll be back on duty, currently on a reconnaissance mission. I will report immediately if I have any progress from this case.'

"Report make .... Sir? Mr Jamil? Jamil without him?" I shouted so softly hoping that Zain wouldn't hear it.

It was as if Jamil cut off the phone unilaterally. His actions are a little disrespectful, since the interlocutor is the boss. So far, the work has been quite satisfying. So I'm sorry for his actions that don't reflect his good attitude.

After putting the handpone on the table, I approached towards the stove. Staring at the soup in a perfectly cooked pot with a look of sadness, I immediately poured it in a serving bowl, and arranged it on the table. Calling Zain to dinner together.

"What do you think is the attitude of someone who forgives the mistakes of others?" I asked after I had cooked rice for him. I intentionally sat facing. Zain did not mind our sitting position so close.

Because of his injured right hand, I helped him do something that he found difficult to do on his own. As of right now, I did offer to bribe him for not wanting Zain to eat with his left hand.

"Pardon me, not an easy thing. But if you can, that's amazing" he replied, seriously.

"Why did Mas Zain not forgive Tasya? Rather than holding a grudge that hurts itself. Better, Mas Zain, be a wonderful man by forgiving his mistakes."

Now Zain was silent, he stopped chewing, his eyes looking at me sharply. I was prepared for all the consequences, as a result of my presumptuous question.

"Tasya didn't leave you because of his will. He married another man because of his father's insistence."

"Why are you interfering in my business?"

His face and ears turned red, Zain was holding on to anger. I was wrong for entering his privacy.

"I just want Mas Zain, who is big-spirited, to forget the anger at Tasya which is not his fault either."

Suddenly her face was pias, her pretty eyes were muddled with dew. Seeing that expression on Zain's face made my heart feel good too. Something stuck in my throat. It hurts, it hurts so much.

"I'll eat myself" he said, then took the spoon in my hand. However, I took the spoon back from him.

"Hand Mas Zain, sick. Let me feed you," I murmured softly.

The tears that I tried to hold, flowed as well. I don't know what to behave myself. After Mr. Jamil gave information about Tasya, I became hesitant to fight for my feelings.

I, who was looking down, hid tears after fighting over a spoon, surprised Zain's hand which wiped the clear fur on my cheek. As I held my head up, Zain was smiling at me. Of course, the more I amplified my cry, the more confused I was to interpret his smile.

The embrace of this body into his arms, the one thing I understood, did not confuse me at all or hesitate. Seeing me cry is a weakness, maybe that's what makes this body always provokes serotonin to be more dominant.

"You said my hands hurt, why are you crying?" she whispered softly while patting my back. I've always loved times like this, lingering in Zain's arms.

Zain that is sometimes cold and cold also has a side of attention and warm. It's what makes me love her more, even my feelings for her more than that.

🍀🍀🍀

In the morning, as I passed through Zain's room, I saw him drying his hair with great difficulty. I pushed the door slightly open, and entered into it after getting permission from her.

Even under these circumstances, Zain never asked for my help. He tried to do it himself, although when I offered help he did not refuse.

"I'm helping, Mom." I took over the towel in his left hand. Started drying my hair with a towel after Zain sat on the edge of the bed so I could reach his head.

"Would I dry with a hair dryer?"

"Can." Zain nodded in acceptance of my offer.

I took the hair dryer and put it in the outlet, started to dry Zain's hair with warm air coming out of the tool on my hand. Even the warmth of the air reaches to the niche of the heart because of the aroma of shampoo that burst.

I tried to stay calm with a flat expression even though my heart was beating like a war drum. let alone with the condition of Zain who was exposing his stomach which was only wrapped in a towel limited to the waist.

Short-circuit often occurs, when accidentally the skin of this hand comes into direct contact with the skin of his back. However, I have decided I will retreat from the battle of love, which I think is just an illusion.

"It's over, Mom. Mas Zain better get dressed and get off. I'll wait at the dinner table." I stepped away from Zain, putting the hair dryer that I had finished using to its original place.

"Rayya!" call him when I'm about to reach for the door handle. I immediately turned around, facing him.

"Yes. Zain needs some more help?"

"Please, get my clothes ready!"

His orders made me squint, my forehead a little wrinkled. It's not usual for Zain to ask me to prepare his clothes. Without asking, I obeyed his orders. Take a set of clothes that look comfortable for Zain to wear.

"I don't want that shirt, find another one. I'm going out, at home too boring" he said right behind me. I held my breath in surprise. After I breathed in the air greedily, I went back to choosing the clothes that I didn't know Zain was going to wear and where Zain was going.

"Mas Zain, do you want formal clothing?"

"Why formal dress? I didn't go to the office, just looking for a crowd. Here I feel lonely, like living alone!"

My hands clenched tightly between the clothes hanging. As usual, I was too slow to digest Zain's words.

"You kept me quiet for days. Did I make a mistake?"

Zain's voice sounded so close to the ear. There were only the two of us, why should a whisper that made all the fine fur on my nape stand up.