Forbidden Love On A Full Night
Salah

Ram was just kidding. He said he would try to hold himself back and would not take advantage of the situation between us which was surrounded by passion and longing after a long separation.

"We just go through the current situation. You and I together, that's all that matters."

He was right, although somehow in my heart still tucked a little disappointed.

A few moments later that night, while lying in bed, I thought of my life. It feels good to have rich parents, never lacking, never worrying about places to shelter or about food to eat. Even so, money, cars, university education, trips to Europe, and all the things my father's money could buy never really make me feel completely happy. That fact was really obvious when I parted with Ram. I looked around my room, at all the fancy things that were inside, and realized how meaningless it would be if I couldn't share it with Ram.

When we dated earlier, I realized that Ram felt I was far beyond the reach of the man. On more than one occasion Ram voiced out loud his concern that he would not be able to live me as my father did. The man had asked me many times about how I would feel if we were married and could only afford to buy something that women needed, not everything I wanted. I had told Ram that it wasn't a problem at all, but he never really believed, and back then, I wasn't sure if I believed it either.

Yeah, well, Ram is different from the other guys. Mostly out there, the men deliberately pursue the rich girls to participate in the splash and enjoy the wealth of his family, work in the company of his in-laws, and change the pattern of life with fun-loving, fun-loving, but not with Ram. Ram only wanted myself, not at all concerned with my father's wealth.

Just like my father, Mr. Reporter has given me various things, but they don't make me happy, and suddenly I realized that was probably what my mother meant when she warned me that Mr. Reporter would never make me happy. Not long after that thought came to mind, I wondered if my mother was really happy with my father?

Looking back, I remember some of my mother's brief comments when she asked my father to come home early to spend time with us. Time, my mind. That is the best gift, the one thing money cannot buy.

While sighing*, I lay sideways, I am here and so is Ram, and we have all the time in this world to solve our problems.

But I was wrong. Time is not on my side.

After a deep sleep that night, I pulled the blanket over my head, but the knock on the door continued. As I was slowly*, I got out of bed, put on my room robe, and stepped barefoot.

Who, the hell, woke me up at this hour? my inner. Definitely Ram. Just the thought of the man made me smile when I opened the door.

"Good morning, Purna."

I looked at the man standing in the front porch. The man wore a long-sleeved cowboy-style shirt, jeans with a crease line sharp enough to split wood, and a pair of super-shiny boots. I closed my eyes for a moment, sure I was dreaming. But as soon as I opened my eyes again, the man was still there.

"What are you doing here, out of all the places?"

"Do you not want to invite me in, Purna? Would help?"

"What's? Oh, sure." I took a step back. "Please come in."

Closing the door, I took a deep breath, then sat down on the sofa, gesturing Mr. Hartawan to sit down. "What are you doing here?"

"You think?"

I'm shaking. "Not knowing."

Huh! It sucks!

"Sorry, I'm not ready to go home yet."

Mr. Hartawan smiled patiently. "I already thought you'd say that, so I rented a room for lodging."

Whahuh? My eyes widened. "You staying here?" I frowned at Mr. Hartawan. "How did you find me?"

"I called your father. It's pretty easy to track you anyway." The man smiled, looking satisfied with himself. "Your credit card shows you where you are. So." The man slapped his knee. Those are the moves I've always hated. "What if you change your clothes and I'll take you to breakfast. We need to talk." The man glanced at my hand. "Where's your ring?"

"I'm removing. I'm just gonna send it back to you."

"Oh, so." There was no mistaking it, implied the offence in the man's eyes, or in his tone of speech.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have let it all go that far. I'm sorry."

"There is no point in bringing up what has passed. You've made a mistake. I forgave you. Come on, now we're looking for food."

He's not listening, I thought. But the truth is that he never listened. Deciding that the quickest way to get rid of it was to do what the man wanted, I went to the bedroom to change clothes. But feeling the opposite, I instead decided to take a long shower first, even though in the end I had to go out and face the man.

Mr. Hartawan stood up as I entered the room. "Ready?"

I nodded and Mr. Reporter followed me outside. As we began to walk, Mr. Reporter took me in his arms, as the man used to do.

"Sorry...." I took my hand from him but couldn't. He gripped my wrist tightly.

I surrendered. Not wanting to cause a commotion in this place.

Watchfully, my eyes glanced right-left as we walked down the path to the dining room, hoping not to cross paths with Ram. I'm not in the mood to explain Mr. Hartawan's presence, and I'm not sure Ram will believe me at this time. I have told the man that my relationship with my fiance is over, but Mr. Reporter is here now, acting as if he is entitled.

I just heaved a sigh of relief, knowing I saw Ram coming out of the dining room. While putting a hat on his head, he went down the steps, then stopped his steps suddenly as soon as he saw me. His gaze shifted from my face to the possessive grasp of Mr. Hartawan, then back to my face. Then he deliberately turned his back on me and walked away.

I stared at Ram's back, praying that the man would give me a chance to explain.

Please don't be angry....