SAD STORY (REGRET)

in #novel2 years ago

“I spent ten years hating him, but spent most of the rest of my life loving him. I am free from him because of death, but I can never be free from his sincere love. I hate it, that's what I always whispered in my heart almost throughout our time together. Even with him, I never really gave my heart to him. Marrying because of parental coercion, made me hate my own husband. Even though I was forced to marry, I never showed my hatred. Even though I hate him, every day I serve him as a wife's duty. I was forced to do it all because I had other grips. Several times I wanted to leave him but I didn't have the financial ability and no one's support. My parents really rejected my husband because according to them, my husband was the perfect husband for their only daughter. When I got married, I became a very spoiled wife. I do whatever I please. My husband also pampers me in a way. I've never really fulfilled my duty as a wife. I've always depended on him because I took it for granted after what he did to me. I have laid down his life so that he makes me happy by fulfilling all my wishes. In our house, I am the queen. No one dared to fight. If there is the slightest problem, I always blame my husband. I don't like his wet towel laying on the bed, I hate to see him put the remaining spoon of stirring milk on the table and leave sticky marks, I hate it when he uses my computer even just to finish his work. I'm angry when he hangs his clothes on the hood of my shirt, I'm also angry when he uses toothpaste without squeezing it neatly, I'm angry when he calls me many times when I'm having fun with my friends.

At first I chose not to have children. Although not working, but I do not want to take care of children. At first he supported me and I also took birth control with pills. But apparently he hid his desires so deeply that one day I forgot to take the birth control pills and even though he knew he let it. I was also pregnant and only realized after more than four months, the doctor refused to abort it. That was my biggest anger at him. Anger grew when I was pregnant with a pair of twins and had to experience a difficult birth. I forced him to have a vasectomy so I wouldn't get pregnant again. Obediently he did all my wishes because I threatened to leave him with our two children. Time passed until the children imperceptibly turned eighth. Like the previous morning, I woke up last. My husband and children were waiting for me at the dinner table. As usual, he is the one who prepares breakfast and takes the children to school. That day, he reminded me that it was my mother's birthday. I just answered with a nod regardless of his words which reminded me of the previous year's incident, at that time I chose to go to the mall and was not present at my mother's event. Well, because I feel stuck with my marriage, I also hate my parents. Before going to the office, usually my husband just kisses me on the cheek followed by the children. But that day, he also hugged me so the kids teased his father noisily. I tried to dodge and let go of his grip. Even though it ended up smiling with the kids. He kissed again several times at the front door, as if it was hard to leave.

When they left, I also decided to go to the salon. Spending time to salon is my hobby. I arrived at my regular salon a few hours later. At the salon I met one of my friends and someone I didn't like. We chatted happily including showing off our activities to each other. The time came for me to pay the salon bill, but how shocked I was when I realized that I had left my wallet at home. Even though I reached into my bag to the deepest part I couldn't find it in the bag. While trying to remember what happened until I couldn't find my wallet, I called my husband and asked. "Sorry honey, yesterday Farhan asked for pocket money and I didn't have small money so I took it from your wallet. I forgot to put it back in your bag, if I'm not mistaken I put it on my desk.” He said explaining gently. In anger, I scolded him harshly. I hung up without waiting finished. Not long after, my cell phone rang again and even though I was still annoyed, I picked it up with a half snap. "Especially??" "Honey, I'm home now, I'll get my wallet and bring it to you. Darling, where are you now?" asked my husband quickly, afraid I hung up the phone again. I said the name of my salon and without waiting for another answer, I hung up again. I spoke to the cashier and said my husband would come pay my bill. The owner of the salon, who is my best friend, actually let me go and said I could pay later when I came back. But the embarrassment because my "enemy" also heard that I had left my wallet made me proud to take on debt first.

hope my husband's car arrives soon. Minutes turned into hours, I was getting impatient so I started calling my husband's cell phone. No answer even though I have called many times. Even though it usually only rings twice my phone has been picked up. I started to feel bad and angry. My call was picked up after several attempts. When my bentakanku had not yet come out, a strange voice answered my husband's phone. I was silent for a few moments before the foreign male voice introduced himself, “good afternoon, mother. Is your mother the wife of Mr. Armandi?” I answered the question right away. The foreign man turned out to be a policeman, he told me that my husband had an accident and he is currently being taken to the police hospital. At that time I was silent and only answered thank you. When the phone was hung up, I crouched down in confusion. My hands tightly gripped the cellphone I was holding and several salon employees approached me with alacrity asking what was wrong until my face became pale as white as paper. Somehow I ended up in hospital. Somehow also suddenly the whole family was there to catch up with me. I, who was silent in a thousand languages, waited for my husband in front of the emergency room. I do not know what to do because all this time he was the one who did everything for me. When finally after waiting for several hours, just as the maghrib call to prayer echoed, a doctor came out and delivered the news. My husband is gone. He left not because of the accident itself, stroke was the cause of his death. After hearing that fact, I was even busy strengthening my parents and their parents who were in shock. Not even a single tear fell out of my eyes. I was busy calming my father and mother-in-law. The children who were hit hugged me tightly but their sadness was completely unable to make me cry.

When the corpse was brought to the house and I sat in front of him, I stared at that face dumbfounded. I realized this was the first time I really looked at his face that looked fast asleep. I approached his face and I looked at it carefully. That's when my chest became congested what he had given me during our ten years together. I gently touched her cold face and realized that this was the first time I touched her face, which had always been decorated with a warm smile. Tears welled up in my eyes, signaling my gaze. I gasped trying to wipe the tears so as not to hold my last glance beside him, I want to remember all the parts of his face so that the sweet memories of my husband don't just end there. But instead of stopping, my tears are getting heavier both of my cheeks. The warning from the imam of the mosque who arranged the funeral procession could not make me stop crying. I try to hold it in, but my chest is tight remembering what I did the last time we spoke. I don't care how much I never paid attention to his health. I almost never manage to eat it. Even though he always regulates what I eat. He paid attention to the vitamins and medicines that I had to take, especially during pregnancy and after giving birth. He never misses reminding me to eat regularly, sometimes even feeding me when I'm lazy to eat. I never know what I'm eating because I never ask. Even I don't know what he likes and dislikes. Almost the whole family knows that my husband is a fan of instant noodles and strong coffee. My chest tightened hearing that, because I know he might be forced to eat instant noodles because I almost never cook them. I just cook for the kids and myself. I don't care if he has eaten or not when he gets home from work. He can eat my cooking only when it's left. He also comes home late at night every day because the office is quite far from home. I never want to fulfill his request to move closer to his office because I don't want to be far from where my friends live.

At the funeral, I couldn't hold back anymore. I fainted when I saw his body disappear along with the heap of earth that was piling up. I didn't know anything until I woke up in my big bed. I woke up with regret filling my chest cavity. My extended family persuaded me in vain because they never knew why I was so hurt to lose him. The days I lived after his departure were not as free as I had wanted but instead I was trapped in the desire to be with him. In the early days of his departure, I sat staring blankly at the empty plate. My father, mother and mother-in-law coaxed me to eat. But what I remember is when my husband coaxed me to eat when I was cranky first. When I forgot to bring a towel in the shower, I screamed for him as usual and when my mother came instead, I crouched down crying in the bathroom hoping for him to come. My habit of calling him whenever I can't do something at home, makes his co-workers confused about answering my phone. Every night I waited for him in the bedroom and hoped that the next morning I would wake up with his figure next to me. I used to be so annoyed when sleeping to hear his snoring, but now I often wake up because I miss hearing it again. I used to be annoyed because he was often a mess in our bedroom, but now I feel that our bedroom feels empty and empty. I used to get so annoyed when he did work and left it on my laptop without logging out, now I stare at the computer, stroking the keys hoping the fingerprints are still there. I used to really dislike him making coffee without a placemat on the table, now I can't even erase the traces left in his last breakfast. The television remote that he usually hides, is now easy for me to find, although I hope I can make up for the loss by losing the remote. I did all the stupidity because I just realized that he loves me and I've been hit by his love arrow. I'm also angry with myself, I'm angry because everything seems normal even though he's gone. I'm angry because her clothes are still there leaving the smell that makes me miss. I'm angry because I can't stop all my regrets. I'm angry because there's nothing to persuade me to calm down, there's nothing to remind me to pray, even though I do it sincerely now. I pray because I want to apologize, apologize to Allah for wasting the husband I was blessed with, asking forgiveness for being a bad wife to a husband who is so perfect. Prayer is able to remove my grief little by little. He showed God's love for me with so much attention from the family for me and the children. My friends, who I've been defending, almost never show their noses after my husband left.

Forty days after his death, my family reminded me to rise from adversity. There are two children waiting for me and I have to live with them. Again, the confusion came over me. So far I know wrong and never work. Everything my husband did. I have never cared about how much he has earned so far, all I care about is the amount of rupiah that he transfers to my account for me to use for personal use and every month the money is almost never left. From the office where he works, I get the last salary and bonus compensation. When I saw him, I was speechless, I didn't expect it. It turned out that all of his salary had been transferred to my account so far. Even though I never used it for household purposes. I don't know where he got other money to meet household needs because I never even asked about it. All I know now is that I have to work or my children won't be able to live because the amount of the last salary and bonus compensation won't be enough to support the three of us. But work where? I have almost no experience at all. Everything was always arranged by him. My confusion was answered some time later. My father came with a notary. He brings a lot of documents. Then the notary gives a letter. The husband's statement that he bequeathed all his wealth to me and the children, he accompanied his mother in the letter but what made me unable to say anything was the contents of the letter to me. My dear wife Liliana, I `m sorry for leaving you first, honey. sorry for having to make you responsible for taking care of everything yourself. I'm sorry that I can't give you love and affection anymore. Allah gave me too short a time because loving you and children is the best thing I ever did for you. If I could, I want to accompany my dear forever. But I don't want you to lose my love just like that. So far I have been saving little by little for your life later. I don't want to be sad after I'm gone. I can't give much but I hope I can use it to raise and educate children. Do what's best for them, dear.

Do a lot of things to make your life wasted so far. I give you the freedom to make dreams come true that you haven't had time to do so far. I'm sorry if I troubled you and may God give you a better match than me. To Farah, my beloved daughter. I'm sorry that daddy can't be with you. Be a good wife like you and Farhan, my guardian knights. Take care of Mom and Farah. Don't be a naughty child anymore and always remember wherever you are, daddy will be there to see him. OK, Buddy!. I sobbed reading the letter, there is a cartoon with glasses with a sticking out tongue typical of my husband when he sends a note. The notary informed me that all this time my husband had several insurance and deposit savings from his biological father's inheritance. My husband made several businesses from the results of these savings deposits and these businesses were quite successful even though they were managed by people he trusted. I can only cry to know how much he loves us, so that when death picks him up he still floods us with love. I never thought of getting married again. The many men present were unable to erase his figure which is still so alive in my heart. Day after day I only devote it to my children. When my parents and in-laws left me one by one, none of them left me as sad as my sadness when my husband left. Now my two sons and daughters are twenty-three years old. In two days my daughter will marry a young man from across the land. Our daughter asked, "Mom, what should I do after I become a wife, because Farah can't cook or wash, what should I do, ma'am?" I embraced him saying “Love dear, love your husband, love your heart's choice, love what he has and you will get everything. Because of love, you will learn to please him, will learn to accept his flaws, will learn that no matter how big the problem is, you will solve it in the name of love. My daughter looked at me, “like mother's love for father? Was it love that made mother remain loyal to father until now?” I shook my head, “no, my dear. Love your husband like father loved mother first, like father loved both of you. Mother is loyal to father because of his great love for mother and you two."

I may be unlucky because I did not have time to show my love to my husband. I spent ten years hating him, but spent most of the rest of my life loving him. I am free from him because of death, but I can never be free from his sincere love. That is a true story that is very sad and touching, Hopefully this event can make us learn to be grateful with what we have, because: What we hope for is not necessarily what we get and what we get is not necessarily what we hope for. But believe that God will definitely give us the best (for/according to us and for/according to those we love)