When My Wife is Different
Rela in divorce.

"Dinar, get into the room! I want to talk." said Irham so close to both.

His wry face looked at the man who made his heart hot.

"Think!" because Dinar has not been obedient, then Irham slightly raised the intonation of his voice.

"Truly the best husband is the gentle one to his wife." Irham glared in such satire.

"Please don't interfere in our household affairs."

"It shouldn't be, but seeing a husband who can't control his anger at his wife, I'm sorry." the man was also unafraid to see Irham's anger.

"You..."

"Mas, come.."

Dinar pulled her husband's arm. Dinar doesn't want to cause a commotion. Aware, Abah and Uminya are at home.

As soon as they got to their room. Irham immediately found his wife.

"This is why you don't want me to take you home, Dinar? Haha hihi same other men, while serving her own husband ogah-ogahan? I'm tired of Dinar, am I lacking what are you? Until you get that close as any other man. Don't remember the sins? Forgot if you had a husband you were supposed to serve?"

"Astaghfirullah, Mom. Why am I never right in your eyes?"

" I'm tired here, Dinar." Irham sat herself on the sofa. On the face with the palm of the hand.

Five minutes passed, Irham who initially closed her eyes now reopened it. Noticing the beautiful figure in black hijab in front of him, the netra they met but no chatter came out.

Until finally....

"I now know why the woman was willing to leave everything to live with the man who was her husband." Irham simply glanced, while Dinar wiped away the trace of her tears.

Ah, why lately Irham always sees Dinar crying?

"Why do you think?" irham asked, wondering what his wife was thinking.

"Because if a husband already supports his wife in any case in a good context. So whatever the risks and obstacles he will never be afraid. Just like a pregnant woman. Gave him a lot of money and a lot of guard servants would never calm him down. However, when there was a husband by his side, all worries seemed to disappear. Like I ever felt your presence more strengthening than Umi and Abah. When I gave birth to Ilyas. I can be calm and strong when you are by my side. That trust seems to be moving on to you, who in fact is the husband and father of my son."

Irham was stunned to hear that. Is it how a wife judges her husband? More important than both parents?

"Because women were created to be makmum. Who always submits and obeys his priest as long as his priestly ways are right. Is not a lot of events in a mosque, if the imam prays in error, then his congregation will look for a new substitute imam figure. Maybe just like a husband?"

Irham glared at hearing that. "What do you mean, Din? You want another priest because you feel like I'm wrong here?"

"Mas not if wrong in the reading can be repeated, and studied again. But if it has diverged can it still be straightened out? Looks like it's gonna be hard?"

"You think I'm wrong?" ask Irham not to believe it.

But, Dinar nodded.

"I'm tired here too, Mom. Tired, but someone who used to always be my backrest turned to blame everything on me."

"That's because of you..."

Tok

Tok

Tok

Hurriedly Dinar wiped away her tears when she heard Ilyas's crying voice. Leaving Irham who still wanted to debate it.

Irham saw his son taken over by his wife.

Ilyas' crying never subsided, even though it was in Dinar's sling. Now the head of Dinar is even the target of Ilyas.

"Dinar take it to the room first Abah, Umi." said Dinar who immediately brought Ilyas into his room. Irham followed and wanted to reach Ilyas but was prevented by Dinar.

"Don't, Mas. It will be quieter for a long time."

Meanin?

The common Irham saw Ilyas like this being infuriated.

Almost thirty minutes.

The room that was neat is now no longer shaped. Scattered objects, pillows, bolsters have lost their sheath.

The culprit is now lying face down on a bed that is collapsed.

Irham. Looking at his wife's face in disbelief.

Patience, that's what Irham saw. His wife very painstakingly calmed Ilyas down. Despite the result he is the target of Ilyas's rampage.

Irham thought nothing of what happened to her three-year-old son.

Dinar flinched as she felt the warmth of her body being embraced by the husband. This is what Dinar really wants. Irham was there at the time when he needed support.

"Mas."

"Yes?"

"If you're really tired, I'm willing to divorce you!" Dinar will no longer be a burden on her husband, she will free Irham from her prison of love. Irham was tired and fed up with a four-year marriage.

Irham was caught hearing the words of Dinar. "What mean? You expect us to split up?"

Dinar lifted his head, venturing to look at the face of the man who was very dear to him.

"Yank.." Irham's voice turned hoarse. "The real answer, why is Ilyas like this? Is there anything I don't know about our son?"

Oh Allah...Why he never knew his son's situation. Has the house been a mess, the appearance of his wife who was disheveled because Dinar was too busy taking care of their child?

Seeing his wife just silent, made Irham rattled. His mind was muddled, he was afraid that his wife was going to divorce because of the problems that had occurred lately.

Dinar sat on the lip of the bed close to Ilyas, looking gently at the face of his baby who had been the source of his strength.

Irham himself ended up sitting on the floor right in front of Dinar. Look at that pretty face. White skin clean even though never wear various kinds of skincare. His wife does not need powder and so on, even those who like to dance and will lose to the beauty of a Dinar.

Dinar is still very young. His nose is sharp, his lips are not thick, not thin very compatible with lashes as if wearing mascara, not thin, his cheeks are very clean white if only a little exposed to sunlight it will redden as if wearing a blush.

Shouldn't he be grateful for this near-perfect wife?

Even he knew all too well about the perfection no man has on earth. But why is he greedy?

"So, what happened to Ilyas?" it made Dinar bow.

"Tantrums."

The eyes lifted. As if he could not believe what he had just heard.

He raised his hand, stretched out toward his head. Slowly, he gently rubbed the head of the Dinar covered with hijab. "Honey....We go home...Never think about divorce...I'm sorry for all my khilaf."

Irham's chest was pounding. Fear, anger and anger become one.

Irham was struck with that reality. Just one word his wife said. But as if opening his eyes wide. If all this time the wrong is her lack of attention. Not the woman he married four years ago.

"Sorry, Mr. Irham. I can't..."