Pursuing My Husband's First Love
Let's Go Promil

While waiting for this day to pass, I intend to visit Mba Mariam and Octavia. Since proposing to Mba Mariam, I never talked to her again.

Now we are both wives of Mas Musa, although I am the first wife but I know enough that Mba Mariam has already settled in the heart of Mas Musa.

It does not matter to me who is a young wife or an old wife, we are both there to make Mas Musa happy.

"Acrasum ... !" knock on the door of the light blue painted house.

I had to knock and say hello many times until Mba Mariam opened the door.

"Assalamualaikum Mba Mariam," I don't know how many times.

"Waalaikumsalam" replied Mba Mariam irit.

"May I visit?" tanyaku kongkan, Mba Mariam did not immediately answer or invite.

"Yes," it took Mba Mariam a few seconds to think before letting me in.

Just entering a step, the aura of Mba Mariam's house was different from the first time when I first stepped foot here. The excitement faded, the coldness of the rainy city felt increasingly piercing inside here.

The small convection belonging to Mba Mariam which was previously always crowded is now closed by Mba Mariam. I realize Mba Mariam has not fully willingly let go of her late husband.

Her smile now never again captivated anyone, the tip of her lips almost always pulled down. The eyes that used to sparkle and make me Iri, now look cute and curvy, dark circles are clearly displayed in the eye area.

In the midst of suffering that still leaves wounds, Mba Mariam still has to bear the gossip of the neighbors because of the marriage that occurred shortly after the iddah period. In this case, I feel guilty. I am very concerned about the current state of Mba Mariam, Mas Musa has a hard task to restore Mba Mariam as it used to be.

"What's wrong?" ask Mba Mariam.

"No papa Mba, I just want to play with Okta, can you?" Mba Mariam seemed doubtful at my request.

"Kan, I also have the right to be called Okta as Umi" I continued.

"Yes," said Mba Mariam briefly, then she went into her room.

I approached Okta who was busy playing dolls and barbie in front of the tv. I spent my time chatting and teaching Okta some things, she was very smart and always curious. She also had a charming smile like her mother, and a cheerful and warm soul like her father.

Ahead of the Dzuhur prayer finally Mba Mariam came out of her room. Without speaking he moved into the kitchen and started cooking, Mba Mariam was like an undead. Either because of my existence, or is he really this ordinary?

Poor Octavia.

I left Octavia and moved slowly to the kitchen to help Mba Mariam.

"Mba, can I help you?" haggard to mince words, again Mba Mariam just silent.

I started to help wash some vegetables, while Mba Mariam fried chicken.

"Mba, thank you for being Mas Musa's wife" I told Mba Mariam.

"You happy?" mba Mariam asked, I just nodded while holding Mba Mariam's face.

"I feel sorry for you, Din" said Mba Mariam.

"Why should Mba have pity?" many wonder.

"A woman would be happier if she lived with someone who loved her, than with someone she loved."

"I mean, Mba?"

"The man who loves you will treat you like a queen, but the man you love will make you sacrifice and struggle. Aye right?"

Mariam's question offends me, she is discussing my life of sacrifice and struggle for Mas Musa, while being treated like a queen by Mas Musa. Our fate is completely inversely proportional.

"Mba, I love Mas Musa sincerely without any regrets. Even when I knew Mas Musa still loved you, I was never disappointed. I try to continue to understand and accept the situation of Mas Musa completely, including his heart full of you Mba."

"You enjoying your role now?" mba Mariam asked in a cynical tone.

"I mean, Mba?" my question is not to understand.

"A beautiful woman, sholehah, has been matched with a widow. Seemed miserable and despised, so much support and sympathy comes to you, doesn't it?"

My thoughts drifted to the gossipy mothers in the stalls, as well as some chatter in the study group who were incessantly talking about Mba Mariam's marriage. I can't believe Mba Mariam who tends to be quiet and once she speaks she no longer charms the interlocutor, but attacks me.

"You know Din? I am called an actor," continued Mba Mariam with a slow but emphasis on the tip of the word.

"Astaghfirullohaladzim ... Mba, we both know that I want this wedding more than anyone. Mba don't be swayed by their talk." I tried to calm Mba Mariam even though I felt uncomfortable.

"Actually I've been trying to straighten out their misunderstanding Mba, I told some people that this marriage is my will" I tried to explain.

"That will only add to their sympathy for you, and will not change their view of me" replied Mba Mariam to my disappointment.

"Mba, let's face this together. This is just a misunderstanding, as long as the news is false and Mba is convinced of the truth, don't let them disturb your life, Mba." I'm trying to motivate Mba Mariam.

"Mba is not alone, the three of us are now, the four of us are even with Octavia," I continued with hope Mba Mariam will be excited again.

"It's easy for you, not for me!" mba Mariam said coldly.

"I'm not easy either, Mba!" myrag.

"My burden is the same, they say I'm barren so I asked Mas Musa to marry you!" I said with a trembling voice holding the rumble in my heart.

"Even though I am not yet pregnant .. and their words have made me lower myself." I acknowledged my weakness in front of Mba Mariam, hoping that she would be sympathetic and withered.

"We are both hurt by different things, Mba. Can we just strengthen each other? Rather than being influenced by those who do not know anything about us" I suggested.

"Okay, alright!" the answer was short while turning off the stove.

I went home with food, Mba Mariam made me take her. She said cooking was her way of forgetting her heart's anxiety.

I rushed to take a shower because it was late in the afternoon Mas Musa was coming home soon. Sure enough, I had just tidied myself the sound of Mas Musa's car had been heard in my ear.

I decorated as best I could, my heart pounding to welcome my priest home lovingly.

"Assalamualaikum, Deck!"

"Waalaikumsalam, take a bath first or ...,"

"Just take a shower, Dek!"

I serve the needs of Mas Musa with all my heart, Mba Mariam really loves to make me sacrifice and try a lot, but why? If I am happy, I am very happy.

"Why, Dek, how did you notice your own smiles?" ask Moses.

"No Papa Mas," I replied with a blush, and it turned out that Moses was watching me.

"Mas, can Medina ask for something?" my question is after Mas Musa finished with his laptop, his work may have piled up due to yesterday's leave.

"Ask what, Deck?"

"Let's go see a doctor for a pregnancy program, Mas." Moses seemed to think before deciding the answer to my request.

"Are you so disturbed, Dek, by our childless household?" moses asked, trying to read my eyes.

"Yes Mas, Medina please, Medina also wants to feel like a perfect woman."

"Prophet Zakaria is the best example for the test of love as we are experiencing, Dek. His age had reached 80 years, decades awaited the presence of a son but God had not yet given it."

As Moses drew near and embraced me, I felt calm and at peace in his arms, and I listened carefully to the story that Moses told me.

"Even so, his love for his wife remained eternal, until finally He prayed as Allah enshrined in the Quran Surah Al-Anbiya' verses 89 and 90. Allah granted him, gave him a son at once by His side's name Yahya."

"So Moses will still love me?"

"Yes, but .. mas will grant your request, let's go promil!"

"Thank you, Mom."

"Mas, what if Mba Mariam was pregnant earlier than me?"

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