Wife 108kg Mr. Bara
Chapter 92. Regrets and desires.

"What's your name, son?"

Gisella grabbed the clear glass that was provided on the table. The brackish water encourages boiled cassava that feels drag in the throat.

"Lia, ma'am," she answered briefly. Gisella had to lie to the old woman. His name who is now a fugitive has spread everywhere. His face has even been plastered in newspapers and has been broadcast on several private television stations.

"Lia, what a pretty name. If you may know, where is your husband, son. And how many months is that?" The old woman came back to look for him with many questions.

A pregnant woman wandered around in the dark night to the outskirts of the village, something must have happened until the woman before her now did so. That thought flashed through the old woman's mind at this moment.

"My husband has passed away, Mom."

Gisella seemed to bite her lower lip tightly. To cover up one lie, he again made a new lie. Gisella turned her eyes to the other side only to avoid eye contact with the woman who had helped her.

His eyes were fixed on the pile of cardboard in the corner of the room near the entrance he had passed earlier. Next to the neatly bound cardboard, there was a sack that looked full of used bottles inside.

"I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to offend you."

Gisella turned her head back, the old woman's face looked so shady. He became unbearable because he had lied.

"Mom, can I just stay overnight here?" He has no choice at this time. Being outside in such cold weather and in a pregnant condition makes him not dare to take risks.

He could have been affected by hypothermia which resulted in him losing the child he was carrying at this time.

"Of course I can. Even I'm very happy to accept it, as long as you don't mind this ugly mother's house. I live here, son. If you want, you can stay up anytime in this shack."

The old woman smiled. He rubbed Gisella's hands gently, delivering warmth in the pregnant woman's heart. God wasn't so bad for her. Although he has committed crimes repeatedly, God still presents someone who sincerely helps him so that he understands the meaning of goodness.

Gisella put the crystal grains back on her cheeks. The useless regret, when it began to realize the mistake. But I can't do anything to change it.

"Call me as Mother Darmi. You must be so tired. You can clean yourself in the back bathroom and you can use Mom's clothes to change your dirty clothes" said the old mother. Gisella nodded her head quickly.

His body was not only tired, but also sticky which made him feel itching all over the body. There were red rashes on her arms and thighs.

Miss Darmi takes Gisella to the bathroom in her small kitchen. All parts of the house were made of sticky boards. Not only the surface is rough, but the pieces of the board are not even until some walls still have gaps that can be used to peek.

Gisella washed her body. Fresh water hit his skin. He could not bathe so freely, the little water he had to save in order to be enough.

Gisella lay alone staring at the ceiling with a small round bulb. Its golden-yellow incandescent became the only surviving light in this room other than the one in front.

The ringing of crickets becomes a discordant lullaby. If Gisella used to be scolding the waiter just for being slow to do what he told her to do. He rarely even kicked her out of his house. But now, everything had turned around as easily as turning the palm of the hand.

The lizard running near the lamp was mocking. Thinning at his own stupidity for a mistake that he cannot turn back.

"When I can turn back. If I wasn't too greedy, if ...," Gisella cried in silence.

Imagine something that has happened. Like expecting the moon to fall into the lap of a hand.

~ ~ ~

"Mas, don't be like that. Tingly." Yonna giggled and felt Bara's long mustache stabbing, tickling her neck as the man made out.

The two of them stood on a balcony with a stretch of pine trees. The wind blew against both of them. Bara's embrace felt so warm blocking the cold wind.

Yonna enjoys leaning against her husband's chest with both hands draping her hands in front of his belly that starts to bulge like a fullness.

Two people who already have a son seem to forget that they are no longer young. But a tempestuous soul ushers in a spirit that never goes out.

"Darling, blame yourself for being so beautiful that your husband cannot escape you" Bara whispered in her ear. The man was unceasingly pounding his wife with seduction. I don't know where he learned it from.

"Now you're good at talking sweet, Mas. Beautiful what if now I'm fat like this." Yonna turned her body. Now that their faces were facing each other, both hands were now coiled behind the back of her husband's neck.

Yonna smiled to herself given how they both felt when they first met and compared her to now. Remembering the cold man that he had always avoided was actually a man who was so in love who was now so tightly hugging him and providing comfort for him.

"I want to always be in this firm embrace of God," the inner Yonna. He smiled so sweetly.

"For me you're always beautiful, you don't have to turn yourself into anyone. I love you Alice, love you from the past to the present. And I'll pour out feelings just on you. So you just have to smile like this to me. That's more than enough."

Yonna stomped her feet, pulling her husband's nape slightly to her head. Both of their lips fused together, channeling a feeling of love that was increasingly knotted tightly.

That large, muscular hand quickly lifted his wife's body into the air without releasing the link on their lips. He held a Yonna ala bridal style, stepping foot into the room.

This is not the night of their bride, but the two halal people seemed to want to spend a night so long as a couple who always make a promise to live forever.