
(dIRGA PV)
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🌺🌾🌺
Will there be an opportunity ...
If hope continues to be stirred up ...
Although all the doors of destiny ...
It is now closed ...
Will a meeting ...
Will open a path ...
Although only a wish ...
Can be made a reality ...
🌺🌾🌺
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5 YEARS LATER
"What time is there another meeting?" ask Bagas, my secretary.
"Eight nights, sir."
"OKAY. It's still 4 o'clock. I'm gonna take a walk on the beach."
"Ready, Sir! Enjoy the beach air" he said, with a respectful attitude towards me.
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The warm air.
I haven't been here in a long time. Maybe about five or six years ago.
The beach is crowded now. It used to be very quiet. Not many people know this place. Luckily, I managed to get a good contract here. So I can be a little nostalgic.
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DUK!
"Ohw .. sorry, Uncle! Are you okay? Um. That's my ball."
A boy about four years old, accidentally kicked his soccer ball at me. The language is somewhat buoyant. His face is like a Javanese.
"Uncle, are you okay? No wounds?" His face looked frightened.
"Yes. I'm okay," I said, wiping the tip of his head. "You speak Indonesian?"
"Yes. Little-little," he replied, laughing.
"Are you alone? What's your name?" my many.
"Arga," he answered, plain.
"The arga? Wow .. it's the good name."
"Thank you, Uncle."
"My name is Dirga. Similar, right our names? Hello to you."
The boy smiled sweetly as he shook my hand.
"But my name is better, Uncle," he said so naively.
"Oh, huh? What's your long name?"
"Arga Rizaski."
"Ri-rizaski?!" my peek.
"Good, right? Hehe ...! Uh, where's my ball? Mama's gonna be here soon to pick me up!"
"Ooh .. This take it!"
Arga extended her little hand to me. And that's when I saw something in his hand.
"Tu-wait! This ... Where did you get this thing?!" myrag.
A silver watch made by Mahesa Corporation coded MR coiled around her wrist. There is only one thing in the world. And I gave it to Rhesa first.
"Ssttt ... don't say, yes, Uncle!" said Arga, by putting his index finger on his lips. "It's my mama's. I often wear it secretly. End ... I like it. Here, look! Shimmer ... very good."
"W-who ...your mama?"
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"Argaaaa .. Come home! I want this maghrib!"
"Okay, Mom!"
The little boy ran towards the woman who called out to him.
The woman ... long hair is draped with a slight end of curls. The woman with a sweet smile adorned her cute lips. That woman .. I know her face very well.
"Rhesa?!"
His eyes were enlarged in surprise to see me.
"Mas Dirga?!"
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"How are you?" my many.
"Okay" he answered, briefly.
An awkward feeling rippled between us. Even though we were sitting on the sand and looking at the same sea as before. We are complete strangers now.
"How are you and Aunt Dessy?" tanyakanya.
"They're fine. When are you coming back to Indonesia?"
"About two months ago."
"You live here? my many.
"Yes. I also teach at one of the colleges in the city. Um.... How's Clara doing?"
Kulirik. He saw a scratch on his face. Maybe he's uncomfortable saying Clara's name.
"What?! Divorce?!" Rhesa looked flabbergasted.
"Why is your expression so exaggerated?" I said, with a little bit of a chuckle. "It's natural, right if the husband and wife divorced. We were divorced, right?"
"Bu-not that. It's just ..."
"Clara. The child he contains .. not my son."
"Huh?! Seriously?!" His eyes seemed to be jumping out. "How can ... Clara?!"
What does Rhesa feel now? What is the regret I used to feel? Or is he currently sending Clara a swearing-in?
"Bec ... Rhes!" I broke the reverie. "Arga called you mama. Is ... Is he your son?".
"Yes. He's my son" he replied, without hesitation.
"So ... are you .. married?"
"Yes. I'm married."
Replied without a second thought.
What, the hell are you thinking, Dirga?!
Just because Arga's last name is the same as yours and the silver watch is in his hands.. Doesn't mean he's your son, right? What kind of crazy thought is this?!
"What's Dirga doing here?"
"Ohw .. I have some work. Mom and Dad are here too. I think they'll be happy to see you."
"He'em," he nodded. "Aah .. It's almost night. I gotta go home. Arga .. let's go home .. Maghrib already!"
"OK, Mom! Bye-bye, Uncle!" Arga waved to me.
"Bye."
Rhesa looks happy.
No ...! Stop thinking crazy, Dirga!
He has his own life now. She was happy with her husband and children.
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MORNING AT THE FLOWER SHOP
"Please write \=SAFE AND SUCCESSFUL GLOBAL PRESIDENT DIRECTOR OF BANK CPC. SONY HERMANSYAH of MAHESA CORPORATION\=!" I said to the caretaker at the flower shop.
"Wait a minute, sir!"
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"Mr Rhesa ...!"
I looked up when the familiar name in my ear was called.
I saw Rhesa standing at the checkout table in the same store as me.
"Please send lightning, yes, Ma'am! It's the address and the rug."
"Good, Mom. Thank you." Thank you."
I immediately approached the cashier as Rhesa left the store.
"sorry. May I know ... lady who just came out, she ordered a bouquet for what, huh? Aah .. He's my acquaintance. Baragkali we'll send to the same address." I'm trying to find an excuse.
"Oh ... Miss Rhesa, huh? There was a message of a bouquet of preserved flowers to send lightning to America."
"To America? What's for?" my question, wonder.
"For the memorial of death."
"Death? Wh-who died?"
"His husband."
"Su-husband?!"
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AFTERNOON AT THE BEACH
"Goool ...! Ye .. ye .. ye .. ye .. ye ..! I won again. Uncle suck at his play. Lose your mouth," grumbled Arga.
"You are the one whose running is very agile. Until the gini uncle chasing you. Where it runs on the sand again. Oh my!"
I just realized I was getting older. Just run a little .. breath feels lost somewhere. Fortunately, my face is still pretty.
"It looks like Arga's got you wrong, huh?" Suddenly Rhesa appeared before me with her beautiful smile. "Why is Dirga here again?"
"It just so happens. Take a walk to unwind" I said. "Ehm .. This morning I saw you at the flower shop."
"Oh, huh? I'm sorry, I didn't see you" he said, sitting next to me.
"So ..your husband is dead?"
"Thus ... Dirga's interrogating the cashiers, huh? Haha ...!"
"Bu-not! Where could I have done that. Don't you. Haha ...!" I was wrong with my own behavior.
"Yes. My husband's dead, a car accident. Tomorrow his family will be commemorating his death. So, I'm sending you flowers."
"He ... is a good person?" my many.
"Yes. Very kind. He's a convert I met two years ago. He's also the psychiatrist I used to work for. We met there. But baby ... Our marriage age is only a short while. Um .. about five months."
"Oh so," I said. "Two years?! You said two years?!" myrag. "Ja-so ... Arga's not the son of your second husband?"
It seems Rhesa also just realized the mistake of her speech. He looked pale, as if trying to find an excuse for me.
"Rhes ... Who is Arga?" my many.
"Wait .. if .. if he is currently about four years old. That means ...he was born a few months after our divorce, right?"
Rhesa was still silent with an increasingly tense face.
"Rhes ... look at me!" I pulled his arm and faced him. "What is Arga ... My son?"
No answer from his mouth. But tears began to pool in her eyes.
"Rhesaa ...! This is not the time to hide anything from me. Tell. Arga ... He's my son, right?!"
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