Enough One Wife
Jehan Alone
Empty house. There's no Jihan and no kids. I repeatedly called and checked the whole room but there was no answer. I waited for half an hour, who knew he was out to buy something even though it was a bit odd considering it was very late and had to bring our two babies who had started growing up. Jihan will be very difficult. As soon as I wanted to contact her phone, there was a previous missed call from Jihan. About two hours ago. But when I called back, the number was off. Where's she? Don't-don't Jihan get angry and leave. Remembering that makes me feel uneasy.
This big house feels strange. Now that I feel, no Jihan and our two babies who have recently been the target of my anger are really uncomfortable. Home, alone. No one prepared food and drinks for me, nor a change of clothes before I went to bed.
"Where are you? Please don't go. Okay I admit that I've been unfair to you lately, always making you a target of my anger but actually I love you so much. I'm just trying to do something so people don't blame me and call me unfilial to you." I'm down. "I'm a really bad husband and father!" I said. Realizing how these emotions are so hard to control these days. Every time there is a problem, Jihan is the target. It's like my anger. He is also an ordinary man with feelings. "I'm sorry Brother." Again I regretted having made such a deep wound in his heart. I promise I'll fix everything even if maybe Jihan's hurt again. Regrets always come later.
"Sir Hasan!" suddenly our front neighbor approached. "Mr is home? You must have nyariin Bu Jihan? The jihannya ma'am is in the hospital, sir. Bringing the baby father. That was Nadira's high fever, convulsions too. Ms. Jihan asked me and my husband to help her to go to the hospital, he said Mr. Hasan was working and could not be reached. Thank goodness Nadira has been dealt with. Hope his condition is okay. Ma'am Jihan said, if you go there please bring some clothes from Ms. Jihan and the children as well Hp Bu Jihan. Earlier, Bu Jihan was in a hurry, overwhelmed as well as having to handle two babies at once. Oh yeah, they're in the ER, sir." Message our neighbors in front of our house
"Oh yes, thank you Mom, thank you so much for helping my wife and children" I said.
"Yes sir, no problem. Neighbors should help each other. However, I'm sorry sir, I feel sorry for Ms. Jihan, it seems very inconvenient to keep two babies at once." again there were people who expressed their judgment about Jihan that I should have been aware of and followed up with. Honestly, I again felt very guilty, always too late when it comes to Jihan's business but she never protested.
"Okay Ma'am, InshaAllah I'll find some help." I said, then rush me into the house, bring the poor change of clothes Jihan and the children I took just as much because I really don't know their clothes. All this time Jihan has handled everything. Accidentally, when I picked up Jihan's shirt on the shelf, my hand picked up something inserted between the clothes. A little notebook of Jihan's. He also has a note. I weighed the note, because I hurriedly brought them, and then placed them in the car drawer so I could read later.
After being sure everything was in order, I immediately gasped towards the hospital in question. Along the way I endlessly beristighfar. There are too many sins that I have made because I ignore him who should get the first priority of attention.
"I'm sorry, brother, forgive brother." I repeatedly apologized in my heart. Wish I could fix it.
Arriving at the hospital, I ran a little towards the ER. The night was getting late, I found Jihan was sleepy waiting for Nadira whose body was filled with tubes, while Nabila was in her arms.
That woman was really troubled to break for me and my children. His devotion is amazing when his life is not happy with me. I feel so bad for him. Tears immediately dripped. Don't know what to talk to him. When he was confused, worried about the condition of our son, by not knowing himself I was having fun with Ica. I was really a bad man, with the excuse of taking refuge from the accusation as an unfilial child but even blatantly hurt his wife. I'm a really bad human being. Husband who does not know himself.
"Don't you?" Jihan is aware of my whereabouts. "Abang is coming?" said. "Will you bring a change of clothes?" he approached me, giving Nabila until I realized his clothes were bleeding.
He nodded, then picked up the bag containing his clothes, walking unsteadily towards the bathroom.
"Hasan .. You are really a lame man*!" I wear myself. Regretting how ugly and stupid I am.
Mother ... Mom and I are fine. I'm just afraid of people's judgments, I can't accept being said badly even though at the end of the day thanks to Jihan our relationship has been good. Even my mother expressed her pleasure to me. Mother also wanted me to love and take good care of Jihan because of the two of us; me and my mother, owed a lot to my wife.
But I could have made this fatal mistake. Hurt your own wife until she's really that broken.
Yes Rabb .. I do not deserve forgiveness. I'm a bad husband!
Suddenly the monitor beside Nadira's bed sounded. I saw my son convulsing for a moment before he finally stiffened motionless. Health workers, doctors and nurses arrived. They tried to give Nadira a helping hand but had the monitor show a straight line.
Netraku catches Jihan running fast towards Nadira's room. He who was originally calm suddenly hysterically learned that one of our twin daughters had gone ahead. She tries to reach Nadira saying that her daughter is fine, our baby is just asleep, the nurse tries to calm Jihan down while hugging her. I know, my wife was devastated again after the repeated destruction she felt.
Innalilahi wa Inna ilaihi Raji.
Perhaps, Nabila felt the departure of his twin. He was crying in my arms. Stupidly, as a father I couldn't calm my daughter down. I could only cry with him.
"Yes Allah .. O Allah." I can only mention the name of God. Wishing He sends strength to Jihan and Nabila.
It's okay I'm ruined because I deserve it. I'm not a good man. I'm evil, very evil.
