Dress For Ex
Ex-Lover (3/3)

Navy sighed, trying to cover his chest. Unfortunately, the memories of the cheek-haired boy who always drove him home from school continue to haunt him.

Junot is mine. Junot is mine. Junot.

The scissors stopped cutting the cloth in the middle of the waist. At that moment, the Navy realized that he should not blame anyone.

At the end of the night, not a single piece of clothing came out. The roar of the machine echoed until the thread rolls in the lifeboat ran out. Then the strange crackling sound grew louder as the needle broke. He just sat there, looking haggard thinking of a way to move on.

Look for a replacement, yuk, his inner monologue, busy entertaining himself.

But the idea of getting a girlfriend instantly is not the path. Navy reluctant weak and impulsive should be able to alternative if his desire fails to be achieved.

Not always the Navy must hear the question of 'when to marry' again every meet friends and family relatives. Tantri is already buzzing not so good not married at the age of more than 40 years. That loneliness will continue to happen despite having abundant material.

It was impossible for the Navy to survive with its own illusions waiting for Junot. He had to rise up to find an alternative with another guy.

But not now the way. Nemu is okelah. Don't quit, brain-disprove. He must be logical in finding a guy who fits all his criteria.

Continue if Junot goes with other girls, who will fit me?

Navy glances at the numbers on the wall. The short needle on the table is already leading to the figure of six in the morning.

It's sad that he didn't do anything after Tantri came home at nine last night. Sitting dumbly by deceiving himself that all is well.

Navy shook his head. He opened the notebook with the intention of writing his heart, but was surprised that something important was missing. The deadline!

Realizing that the dress to be delivered this morning was still unfinished in the arm, the Navy worked faster.

As the door opened from the outside, the strong scent of Tantri shampoo penetrated the noses of the Navy. Her cousin sister was shocked to see her puffy eyes, zombie-like face and loose hair from the bun sagging into the lower cranium.

"You didn't come home last night?" Tantri covered her own mouth.

"No."

"Zahra's mother's book is done, right? Today we're going to Aston Hotel."

"Udah." Navy cut out the yarn. He forced an uneasy smile. There must be two stones hanging at the corner of his lips.

"Reverse to the house. It's noisy here too." Tantri is attentive. The boutique atmosphere is not an ideal place to sleep well. In the next room, five sewing machines were reverberating violently. Often visitors come to order a wedding dress, also repair torn clothes. Surely the Navy has to rest at home rather than her body drop.

"No papa, Ma'am. I'm just here. Who knows if a customer will come again" the Navy said.

"Seriously so?" Tantri.

"I slept for a while. Wake up at nine. There's a Jagakarsa guy coming."

Navy's mouth is wide open. He yawns and stretches his body. A roll of satin fabric is marginalized to the corner of the wall. The long legs of the Navy hang over the arm of the sofa. He was stuck there exhausted, asleep exhausted considering Junot.

I don't know when to see Junot again. It all depends on Rhea.

It's just, the Navy doesn't want to see the two of them again.