What a Beautiful Divorce
58. The boss!

“Pak Subakti, this fried order Mr.”

Subakti closed the laptop. “Thank you, sir,” he said, holding out fifty thousand dollars to the fry seller in front of his office, who was used to deliver Subakti orders directly to the workroom.

“In the meantime, Mr.” the fry seller grabbed his shirt bag.

Subakti smiling. “The return is for you only. How's the sale going today, selling out as usual, right?"

The faces of the fathers were bright. “Thank you very much, Mr. Subakti. May Subakti be more successful. Thank goodness, sir, selling out as usual. Just a little more."

“Wah, thank goodness I ordered it quickly. Equally, Sir. Success also for Mr.”

The fry seller nodded and left the Subakti workspace.

Subakti opened her desk drawer. He took a bottle of soy sauce and poured it on the still hot tub.

When the still hot bakwan was about to be bitten by Subakti, his phone rang. Subakti grabs her phone while chewing. He frowned when he saw an unknown number sending two whatsapp messages.

The salty soy sauce Subakti ate immediately tasted bitter. He threw all his fritters onto the floor and stood up with fiery eyes.

***

Subakti came home with a face like boiled shrimp, because he read a message from whatsapp number that he did not know. The message contained a picture of his wife, Rini, holding hands and gazing with a man at the cafe.

Along with the message, there is a sentence that says that Subakti's wife has lately changed well to him so that the construction of house gifts on behalf of his wife runs smoothly. The proof, Rini met another man at the cafe.

The sender of the message said that it could have been Rini's meeting multiple times with the man.

And that afternoon, war broke out in Subakti's house between him and his wife. Clay jars that are quite expensive are broken into pieces.

The fight then continued into the kitchen. The dishes were slammed into the floor, the glass flew into the wall, and some other kitchen furniture was smashed or cracked and hit by Subakti.

“There are no more stories about the house on your behalf in Surabaya! I'll cancel the land-letter on your behalf. Thankfully the house was just the foundation built,” said Subakti. He threw the glass back without seeing what happened to the glass.

“You believe more in that unknown number than your own wife?” shout Rini. As if he did not want to lose to Subakti, he threw a plate.

“Throw it on, right who bought the plate is your money, not my money,” hardik Subakti. “Yes, indeed the number is unknown, but I know the face of the woman who holds hands and looks at this man.”

“That's not me, Subakti. Not me!”

Subakti picked up the glass on the plate shelf and threw it behind, still without looking. He then brought his phone screen closer to Rini's face. “Who is this if not you? It's Silvi. Your face. And here's a picture of the four of you eating. Goddamnit!

“I'll be suing for your divorce, Rini. Tonight I'm going to Mom's house, tomorrow afternoon when I get back here, I'd better not see your face again.”

“The man is just my friend, Subakti,” said Rini, crying.

“How many times have I told you? Men and women cannot be friends! All this time I was too afraid of you leaving, but it's true said the sender of the message, I'm not ugly and I have a decent income, must be many women who want to be with me.”

Subakti hit the kitchen cupboard twice and then left her house, and also the crumbling closet.

***

Rain began to fall when Prapto had reached the middle between the village of Kejora and Jakarta. Along the way, he continued to pay attention to the motors he passed.

Prapto slowed down the speed of his bike, when he saw a woman pushing the motor. He recognized the helmet located on the rearview mirror of the motor. He opened his caping.

Prapto opens his bamboo caping. “You can have a fever if it rains like this, Pinaka. Let's take shelter in the front stall, all the gasoline there.” He put a bamboo caping on the woman's head, which turned out to be Pinaka.

Pinaka. He looked at Prapto with glazed eyes, then nodded.

They then stopped at a coffee shop where there were no visitors. Prapto ordered coffee and warm tea after filling Pinaka gasoline.

“Why are you home?” ask Prapto.

“It's okay, Mas,” replied Pinaka. He lowered.

“That's it, Mas. But they could be right, right?”

Prapto. “Open your phone. There's an important message you should read.”

Pinaka. “Let's go, Mas, when I'm home.”

“See me, Pinaka!”

Pinaka raised his head.

“Your house is in Kejora village, not in Jakarta,” Prapto said.

Pinaka was about to answer, but Prapto again said, “Open your phone.”

Pinaka stared at Prapto for a while. Then he opened his phone.

“If Rini pulls the message, I have a screenshot proof of her message to you,” Prapto said.

“There's still the message, Mas,” Pinaka replied, downright. “I'm sorry, Mas Prapto. I just ..”

“Already shaded. Let's go home to our village, Pinaka,” cut Prapto, smile.

Pinaka nodded. “Mas Prapto want to wear a helmet or wear caping?”

“Caping. I ‘kan peasant.” Prapto stood up to call the shop owner. But then he approached Pinaka and said slowly, “Pinaka, I forgot to bring my wallet. Twenty-eight thousand with gasoline.”

Pinaka laughs. He took fifty thousand and gave it to Prapto.

Under the cloudy sky and dimmer day before night, the man clapping again sped. But this time he was not alone.

***

Prapto and Pinaka arrive at the library at eight p.m. He drove Pinaka up to the terrace.

“Im sorry a..”

“I love you, Pinaka,” cut Prapto.

“A... what, Mas?” Pinaka looked at Prapto with shocked and questionable eyes.

“I love you, Pinaka. Let's go to your parents' house and go to my parents' house this weekend to talk about our marriage.”

“Mas?”

“Ya?”

“What kind of love statement and marriage invitation is it?” ask Pinaka. “I haven't answered either but Mas has decided to talk about marriage with our parents.”

Prapto laughs. “But cool, right? I don't like to sit like in movies and love novels, Pinaka. Why should I get married and bother? You want to, right?”

Pinaka smiled and rolled his eyes. “I took a few days to answer, Mas, like in movies and in love novels,” he said, laughing.

Prapto laughs back. “I'll go home first, Pinaka. Our weekend to Jakarta, to your parents' house and my parents' house.”

Pinaka nodded so sweetly.

The man in the conversation drove back. The radiance emanating from the blossoming flowers in his heart made the night feel so bright for Prapto.

***

Prapto was smiling on his porch when Nimo came on his bike wearing a raincoat and carrying a flashlight. Without getting off the bike, Nimo cheered, "Boss! Go, hurry!"