Wedding Dust's
19. Nadya Ayunda

...Happy Reading......

Where should we start the conversation from?

Arriving at home, Bagas remained silent and there was no interest in talking about other problems that arose between us. He just walked ahead, opened the door, then disappeared behind the door of the room that when I got there, was already sealed.

The clock pointed to the number five in the afternoon, and I intended to clean up first before deciding to start another conversation with Bagas. The weather in Jakarta is very hot today. Or, just my feelings?

In the bathroom, my mind seemed to stir, on the somersault, even to the point of making my eyes twitch. The running water soaked my skin feeling cold despite the temperature being so hot. I was confused as to what to say to Bagas, if my husband could see such a smile from me for Hansel.

Honestly, I did deliberately make a distance with Bagas all this time. The classic reason I made was just a matter of friendship not wanting to be broken just because we confessed our feelings, then we had a fight, and it could be that we chose the worst path for our marriage, she said, it was a farewell that of course would make us both would no longer be able to accept each other.

But this time, the problem is different. Bagas includes those closest to me. He has understood me the most all along. And he knows my habits the most. Including my gurgles or my face when facing others. Bagas could clearly read it.

I sighed, looking down at how the water fell on the beige ceramic floor I was stepping on.

Ah, come huh?

It's the 23rd, and it's supposed to be my monthly guest. I turned off the shower, grabbed a bottle of bath soap and shampoo periodically, then started cleaning myself. After rinsing, I wore everything I needed to wear, including one item that could accommodate the monthly guests that came today.

I'm out of the bathroom. There was no Bagas in the bed as usual, and it felt strange, also triggering my worry if this time, Bagas was really serious about his words.

I went to the wardrobe and changed the towel clothes with the usual home clothes I wear in the afternoon, then went out of the room to look for Bagas. She was in the kitchen, busy with a frying pan on the stove, and I could breathe in the scent of an omelet that she was probably making right now.

With a doubtful step, I approached, trying to find a topic of conversation that could make him make a sound.

“Sini, I madein.” I said while trying to grab the spatula from Bagas' hand, but instead he kept it out of my reach. I understand, he refused. The sound of the spatula fighting back with the frying pan now made a bit of humiliation appear in my mind. I'm looking for another topic.

“Taste what I made the other day, out?” I asked again, while walking to the refrigerator, opening and looking for Tupperware boxes, all while checking the remaining ingredients. Three boxes that I left two days ago contained rendang, gudeg, and chicken soup that was no longer there. I smiled happily because Bagas spent everything without rest. But he still didn't answer my question.

“You want me to make pecel for your omelette?”

“Ngak.”

It's chilly. And I started getting emotional again.

“Okey. So tell me why you're banning me from work. Not just because Mr. Hansel was there, you forbade me like the truest yourself. You're wrong to think I'm going to have an affair with him, Gas.” my cerocos at length, hoping Bagas is hooked and gives an answer. But I was wrong, he kept quiet.

Perhaps, with just this threat Bagas will open the sound. “Don't till I realize your accusation, Gas.”

Succeeds. He stopped, then turned to his left shoulder to look at my current existence that was already cold. My palms were wet for fear that Bagas would react otherwise than I expected.

“So you have any intention for that?”

No. gabe. Not at all. I can only shout that in my heart.

“Do. If it can make you happy.”

***

I spent the rest of the night crying. Too tired to hold back tears for five years. It took me so long, it almost made me desperate.

Bagas was able to go to Letto's place even though I did not respond with any answer. Feeling fucked. Mixed with pain that somehow not usually when I come to the moon, suddenly appeared. I bit my lips a few times, enduring the pain and the sound of crying until the message came. A message from Mr. Hansel for me.

Mr Hansel: Is he asleep?

I'm getting sobbing. Why is he the one present when I'm screwed up like this?

Not paying heed to the message, I chose to look for Letto's phone contact and send a message to him, because Bagas' number could not be reached.

Bagas? Please tell me to go home, Lett. I'm in need of him. I'm not feeling well anymore.

Not long after, a reply from Letto came.

Letto: Bagas is not here.

Suddenly, my tears fell. Who else is he coming to now, besides Hera? But, should he still lie to me like this?

I patted my chest a few times, hoping that the pain and swelling would go away when I knew the truth that Bagas wasn't in Letto's place. Then, I again swiped the phone screen and typed in a reply for Letto.

I went back to the start menu, then re-opened WhatsApp and read Mr. Hansel's message. And repay.

Not yet, sir.

Naively. But I need an escape. I need someone I can make friends with until Bagas gets home later.

Mr Hansel: Ah, why? Any more problems?

Should I answer yes?

Just misunderstand. My reply was like I wanted to be noticed. But that's the only stock of sentences that popped up in my brain.

Mr Hansel: Misunderstand it? Does it have anything to do with the airport?

Mr. Hansel: Oh yes. Outside the office, just call Hansel enough.

I try to understand the message. Whatdoes thatmean? Does he want to get along with me?

Sir, please don't. Don't try to get along with me.

My reply was to try to make him aware of our respective statuses. But, the reply made me throw my eyes.

Mr. Hansel: But I want to be close to you, Nad. You can tell me about things you can't tell Bagas.

My tears suddenly stopped. My heart was racing as if it was meeting the right person to open my heart. But when I realized I was wrong, I wanted to cry again.

Mr. Hansel: I promise, I'll make you comfortable.

I wiped the tears. Should I try it?

And my finger just pressed the phone keyboard. A few things I told Hansel, and he always responded and gave me answers that were reasonable enough to make me feel comfortable.

Ah, is this how people out there are cheating? Not only because there is a sense of wanting to be together let alone have, but because they feel comfortable and cared for, then become close. Is it because of that? Please give me an explanation.

Until half-twelve in the evening, I ended the message unilaterally because I heard the sound of a motorbike entering the garage of the house. Bagas.

I immediately jumped down from the bed, putting aside all the thumping and guilty feelings of exchanging messages with Hansel, I ran towards the front door. Want to make sure if my guess is wrong, or at least Letto is pranking me by saying if Bagas is not there.

But, after I opened the door, I found Bagas a little messy looking at me. The thick aroma that made the nausea mixed with cigarette smoke, made all my prejudices decay. My feet were fixed where I stood. I've never seen Bagas like this in knowing and living with him.

It was not Hera that he came to, but another place that was far more stifling to my chest. Club night? Discotheque? That's what I'm thinking now.

Then, the fragrance of perfume is so foreign—

“Where are you from?!” I asked sharply, not wanting to hold back the fear that creeps up in my heart.

My question made Bagas' steps stop. “Tau what are you.” he replied casually without any guilt to me in the slightest.

I twisted the body, walked a little run, then grabbed one of his arms that almost went away violently until his tall body was well-built.

“You are crazy?” my squeals are not at all in the gubris. “My jawab! Where are you from?!!” I don't care if the neighbors hear it.

Bagas tried to shake my hand a few times, but I kept trying to grip him.

“I'm tired, Nad.”

“You drink?” I half whispered after sniffing the sleeves of the clothes he was wearing. “Jawab me!”

“YA! SATISFIED YOU!” his jolt screamed in front of my face until reflexes made me close my eyes and squeeze clothes in front of my stomach. So hurtful.

Today, I feel like I'm being destroyed by reality. The Bagas that are in front of me, is not the Bagas that I know. He's someone else.

“Why are you doing this?” I said with a loud voice. The limits of my patience are at the tip of the horn, and ready to perish in the valley of despair. “Why are you like this?!” continued shouting.

“Sial!” he was annoyed to jerk my hand until I fell on the floor. I know he didn't know he was doing that because he was affected by alcohol. But I feel hurt.

Then, with the scorching tears that I wiped rudely, I locked our gazes. With a sharp voice, clenched jaws, clashed teeth, and strong fists, I said. “You've gone too far, Gas. Don't regret if I'm comfortable with others.” []

^^^to be continued.^^^