The living room of my house is a mess. Tables, chairs, flower vases, and irregular tablecloths. The proper desk in the middle of the chair was now in the corner. While the chairs are not facing each other. His position is now intersect. Paper flower that usually decorate the table is now uprooted and scattered in all corners of space.
I do not know why my living room is like that. My son that morning was not at home. He left for school since morning. My wife usually does not come home either. He still waits for my son who is still sitting on the bench kindergarten. So who did all this? My forehead furrowed at the sight of my eyes.
I was surprised to see the outside terrace. There was a pair of my wife's sandals. I suspect my wife is at home. I stepped into the house calling my wife. But there was no answer. I tried to find her into the room. Uh, it turns out he was in the room while his stomach on the bed. I approached him and wanted to ask for the messy mess of the living room. He said nothing. I forced her a little by turning her stomach to ask for her explanation of what happened this morning.
My wife's hair was disheveled. His face was irregularly pouted. His eyes were damp with tears that were lying around. His face was red as if he had a tremendous anger. His mouth was locked and looked away from me.
"What is it, Dik?" I asked him. He was silent. My wife did not answer my question even though it was just a word. I am increasingly surprised by my wife's attitude. Why is he acting so?
The atmosphere in the room is silent. Silence enveloped a cheerful morning. The entire contents of the silent room did not react to the attitude of the woman I married eleven years ago. My heart was beating at my unusual behavior. Usually when in the morning and just together like this, my wife's words always melt tease me. She always wanted to make me laugh. However, this morning somehow all froze?
"Dik, speak?" I pleaded. My wife is still silent. He fasts to talk to me for no apparent reason.
"Alright then. I'm leaving for work. I got an assignment outside the office to deliver an important letter to my boss business associate. "
"Wait!" He said as he jumped off the bed to ambush me.
"Take an important letter to your boss's business associate or will meet your ex-boyfriend?" My wife asked sarcastically.
"What do you mean, Dik?"
"Do not pretend you do not understand!"
"I really do not understand what you mean, Dik."
"Hell! I know everything. "My wife looked away and went back into the room.
I really wonder why he asked like that. Though today I'm really going to deliver an important letter to my boss business associates. I have not the slightest desire as my wife has accused me of.
"Let's make a deal with Leni, my ex-boyfriend, never met," I muttered to myself.
It's true that I once dated Leni, but that was fifteen years before I married my wife. Leni is a beautiful girl. Prettier than my current wife. It's just that he's a traitor. Leni is dating another young man. She's dating me just for an outlet. Finally, I sever the bond of love that once bonded our souls together.
After I married my wife, I never saw Leni again. Memories during my courtship have been erased from the memory of my life. Except for his white shirt gift as a memento and a major requirement he willingly decided on his love that I have to keep forever. Leni face that I always imagine, I always imagine, always I always let my lis always recite his name has now vanished from my life.
Accidentally, when I was traveling with my wife and son in the tourist area of Malioboro Jogja, we met him. At that time he also traveled with colleagues office.
"Mas Johan ??" she said in a questioning tone.
"Yes, that's right," I replied.
Without further ado the woman who had stopped in my life immediately embraced me while asking about my situation. I replied as I struggled to release her tight embrace.
"Len, let go!" I whispered into his earlobe that also stuck to my cheek.
He just realized what it has done that can lead to unfavorable prejudices from my wife. Slowly he let go of his hug then saw my wife and son.
"Sorry, Mbak!" Leni told my wife.
My wife did not respond to what Leni said. His face was burning red with jealous fire. With a cold attitude, my wife got up from her seat and dragged her child away from where I stood with Leni.
A slice of lontong satay we just ate half put on the park bench Malioboro. The spill I let it melt on the bench.
"Sorry, Len, I have to catch up with my wife and son."
"Wait, Mas! I still miss you."
"We meet sometime again. This is my card. "
As I was about to run after my wife, Leni put her arm around me again. He seems to still have a great sense of missed me.
"Sorry, Len!" I push Leni's body up to stagger away from me.
I turned to my wife and son, but they had vanished behind the thousands of people packed into Malioboro. I ran after them by sneaking between the people who passed me. All the energy I had so I could find them.
"Beware!" Shouted people along the Malioboro sidewalk.
I stopped suddenly. A second later a fast-paced andong flashed past me. Luckily I heard the shouts of the visitors Malioboro. Otherwise, my body would have bounced off andong carrying some foreign tourists.
I took a deep breath to calm my panic. After a few moments of quitting, I continued searching for my wife and son. All walkways have been crossed. All the crowds I've reached. However, until now I have not found my wife and son. I walked chaotically along the Maloboro road. The beautiful music from Jogja artists who lined the sidewalks entertaining the visitors, I can not enjoy. Shouted the mothers who offer lontong and chicken satay I do not even know. I just wanted to find my wife and son running away from where we enjoy Malioboro food.
I was tired looking for them. In a concrete seat I sat down to calm myself. I pondered as I thought about where they were. My cell phone in the pocket of the pants vibrated. My right hand immediately reached into it. It was my private driver calling.
"Mr. Johan, get to the car immediately! Madam crying. "
After getting word that my wife is in the car, I feel very relieved. However, there is still a wedge in my heart because my wife is in tears. I already suspect the cause of her crying is the incident.
Arriving at the parking lot, I immediately opened the car door. I saw my wife crying in a jealous fire. If I were in her position, I might as well feel the same. I would also be jealous if the person I love hugged people. Moreover, the person has had a love.
"Come on, Mr. Jaelani, we're going home!"
"All right, sir." The car crept slowly out of the parking lot of Malioboro.
The atmosphere at home is still gripping. My wife is still angry with an unclear reason. He is still pursuing my honesty about all the things that are alleged to me. Sobs are still suffocating. Her clear eyes are still covered with tears.
"Answer my question, Mas Johan honestly! Is Mas still in love with Leni? "
"What are you doing, Dad? I'm your husband. The woman I love in this world is just you, my wife. "
"Do not lie, Mas. When Mas was in the bathroom, Leni contacted you. Where did he get your number? "
I immediately explained where Leni got my number.
"He gave me my card when we met him in Malioboro some time ago."
"After that, Mas call each other, right? Answer, Mas! "Asked my wife while holding back her sobs.
"Yes. He used to call me. However, we only ask about the news. "
So, this sms who's calling Mas with the word dear? Then this sms again if today Mas will meet at Ramayana Restaurant, "said my wife while thrusting the cell phone towards my face.
This time I really did not move. The evidence in the form of a mobile phone has made me dead lice.
"Sorry, Dad! This time I admit I'm guilty. Indeed it is an sms from Leni. However, you need to know that I answered that I can not meet him because there is a job from my boss. "
"Lie! Mas Johan lies! "My wife's anger grew more and more. He ran into the room. I immediately followed him. I saw my wife opening her cupboard. He took out all the clothes from the cupboard. One by one clothes that are in the cupboard issued to scatter on the floor of the room.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
He ignored my question. My wife is still unpacking and throwing the entire contents of the cupboard.
"Here, Mas Johan. Leni's white shirt that makes Mas can not forget it. This shirt Mas Johan vanished or me and my son will go away from the life of Mas Johan forever? "
A difficult question I answer. The two choices of my wife's questions were something of great worth in my life and I could not have chosen one. If I choose to burn the shirt, then I will feel guilty forever because it is a gift from Leni that I have to care for indefinitely. If I leave the white shirt still in the cupboard, I will lose two very meaningful people in my life. They always accompany me in the atmosphere of joy and sorrow.
"Do not, Dad! Do not burn this white shirt! "
"Well if that's the choice of Mas Johan. We'll go to my parents' house, "my wife said as she dragged my son's arm.
"Do not be desperate, Dik! Do not go, Dad! You are half my life, "I said.
"Then, immediately remove these white shirts from our lives!" He pleaded.
"Well if that's what you want. I'm going to burn this white shirt, "I say back off.
I reluctantly stepped into the incinerator beside the house. The folded white shirt that holds fond memories when I have a romance with Leni, is now ending in extermination. Bitter bitter experience of that time will soon disappear with the burnt this white shirt.
"I'm sorry Len. I do this because I do not want my family to fall apart, "I told myself.
Matches are on. A white shirt has been lifted up. A flickering tongue of fire limped on a white shirt filled with memories. The flame has touched the tip of the white shirt. However, the shirt can not burn. I'm surprised. Normally if the cloth is touched by fire, then the fire will devour the cloth. I wiped the tears that had trickled down my cheek as to whether the shirt had burned or not.
"Strange. This is so strange! "I say in surprise.
Somehow suddenly from behind the folds of white shirt came the shadow of Leni's face. A glimpse of his face filled with tears. He was seen crying while preventing me from burning this white shirt.
Instantly I extinguished the blazing fire from the muzzle of a match. I did not burn a white shirt that holds a million memories. I took the white shirt I had trimmed back into the cupboard. I keep it neatly on the highest cabinet rack so my wife can not find it anymore.
The smell of burning cloth from the incinerator beside the house. Yes, the used cloth I burned on the spot to trick my wife. Smoke steamed and then slipped through the window of the house to the nose of my wife. My wife's expression had begun to show satisfaction. He had thought that the white shirt that was supposed to be the culprit of the row had been ashes. He smiled and apologized to me for his attitude and words for this.