Two Love's
The Injured Heart

      Before dawn, after the tahajud prayer, after complaining of all the heart-wrenching lara, I looked for my husband's device. Mas Iqbal was still sleeping soundly, snoring smooth like a rhythm at the end of dawn. I slowly grabbed the phone tucked under his hand. I know it's very risky, I've never done this before, for me it's not a good thing to take and check on your husband without asking permission first. But I still have to do it, for the sake of the truth. 

    I managed to open the phone, my hand was agile looking for a contact that I had already memorized his profile, Sarah. Sure enough, the call notification showed me last night Iqbal called the woman. Pretty long. Turning to the chat, I saw the lady's greeting. 

'my wife is broken, say. Tomorrow again, yeah. I'll wait for you tomorrow at home. Hug the warmest kiss for you. ' so say hello to that. My heart suddenly got hot. Moreover, read the reply from Iqbal mas, Iqbal,

'take care, yeah. I love you.' 

Gusti, how steadfast Iqbal mas, he expressed love for this woman. 

     My tears were melting, this time I was really hurt. My husband really betrayed me. He loves that woman. 

    ***

   The morning prayer rumbles, breaking the silence, the voice of the muezzin teeters, feels peaceful in the heart. I got back my prayer title, facing the essay. Merge with Him. Stirring my wounds that started to get real. 

   Iqbal hasn't woken up yet, this time I let him. Usually, I always wake him with tenderness, then invite him to congregational prayer at home musholla. Iqbal squirms, his eyes open, a little surprised to see me who has taken off my face. 

"have you woken up, Mi? " Ask me. He blinked his eyes. 

" i have, "my answer is short and flat. Iqbal pulled the cover. Resuming sleep. 

    This morning I felt so lazy to do activities, let alone cook. I chose to play cell phone in Alif's room, my son was still asleep. Every now and then I kissed her on the forehead, my son was a kid, he had just entered elementary school, but his father had betrayed us. It strikes my heart again. 

    I sent back a chat to us, I told you back what I found in Iqbal's message to the woman. 

'subhanallah, be patient, yes my friend.., Azifatun Nafisah.., you are a great and tough woman. Believe that all will be well, ' Our reply has entered my time. My tears were dripping one after another. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, so that the sound of my sobbing didn't wake Alif up. 

  ' then what should I do?' ask us. 

'you can speak well of your husband, ask him what the truth is, then say what you want, ' I read that advice well. My tears are still melting. 

' i'll be following Iqbal in the afternoon, can you help me?' ask me back to us who are still online. Honey I can't call right away, because my voice will be heard by Iqbal. Or you could wake Alif. 

' ha? Your employee? Wh who? I don't feel good later, it's not unusual to go with a stranger, ' my message was a little surprised. Where can I go with a foreign man. Coincidentally, sahabtku Kamilah, has indeed become a successful career woman. He set up a rapidly advancing property business. Honey, until now the woman who prefers to call me Azif has not decided to get married. We cannot forget her ex-husband who died a month after their marriage was decided. He said again there is love, now just want to focus on work and work. 

 'think of him as a motorcycle taxi driver. I picked the best and most honest employee. Usually, this one employee is assigned to the field. Name's Aaron. He's good, kok.' 

  I'll just accept our offer. There's no other choice. 

In this town I'm just a kara, all my family in the village. I'm with the husband. Mas Iqbal got a job in town, of course as a wife I followed him. 

  Every day, my days are filled with silence and silence. Living in a residential complex that most of its residents are busy office people. 

The only entertainment was when I drove Alif to school. There, I could meet other mothers, tell each other about the busyness of the house. 

  Sometimes we take me for a walk. Only once a month, because my best friend is a busy woman. We talk more often over the phone or chat. 

Take care of Alif, take care of the house, then wait for the husband to come home. That's just my activity every day. 

  Unfortunately Iqbal could never understand, I was always waiting for him to come home early. Just being a talkative, a silent remover. 

Every time I send a message, asking that Iqbal mas come home early, he is always angry, he thinks I am a spoiled and lovable wife, can not understand the situation of a husband who is busy working for the family. 

    In fact, the slowness of going home is due to being busy with other women. Maybe, because I can only be sure if I've seen with my own eyes. 

  Not felt, the sun is increasingly showing itself. I quickly wiped away the remaining tears. Alif squirms, starts to open his eyes. He could see me sitting next to him. 

"umi, what tumben, usually when Alif wakes up, umi is still busy in the kitchen? "asked Alif. I smiled, trying to hide the wound I was holding in my heart. 

" umi is lazy to cook, we have breakfast at mbok yem stall, yuk. Alif's favorite meat soto, it must be delicious. Wantsome? " give me to Alif who's still gouging his eyes. My son nodded with excitement. 

" okay. Go to the bathroom first! " my orders go to Alif. He complied and walked to the bathroom. I rushed to get ready.