Second proposal

By Dian Sri Hardini

Hartono had been gloomy of late and his coworkers could see this clearly. He was not good enough an actor to hide his melancholy and restlessness from his colleagues or from his own wife. To his coworkers he simply said he did not feel well after mourning the death of his uncle in a tragic accident.

"Your melancholy is different from your sorrow over the death of Uncle Priyadi. It's all right with me if you still don't want to share your feelings with me," his wife said, comforting him. "But please, don't let anything weigh your mind down too long; it won't do your health any good."

His wife was serious in reminding him of the effects of his black mood upon his health. Of late, he often felt as if he was about to vomit. It was his stomach ache again.

His wife's care and attention was like needles piercing his heart. He knew it was his wife who was the root cause of all the problems he now faced.

A few days earlier, Mr. Handoko wanted to see him. It was unusual for the director to call him into his office. He usually received his assignment from his immediate superior -- his manager. It was this call from Mr. Handoko, perhaps, that had started the whisperings in the office.

After beginning the conversation with the usual small talk, asking about his health, family and how he was finding his job, as well as delivering some small praise for his work, Mr. Handoko, hinted that he was going to get a promotion. For a moment Hartono seemed to fly up to the heavens before being flung back to the ground with a great thud.

"I want Atika. I want to take back your wife," said Mr. Handoko lightly. Hartono's head felt as is it had been struck a mighty blow.

"But, sir ... "

"You don't need to answer now. Think about it for a week and talk this over with your wife," said Mr. Handoko, leaning back in his expensive chair. "Remember, you will have a bright future if you do this for me."

Hartono no longer heard his director's words. He was speechless; his feelings were confused.

This was the problem that led to Hartono's current gloom. He had weighed everything. He had been married to Atika for six years and had gone through all the ups and downs of marriage. Did he have to throw away the happiness he had achieved after a hard struggle and allow the bitterness he was once compelled to experience return?

These were bitter days when he was compelled to consider Mr. Handoko's offer. He could only relax and forget his problems when he thought of Atika, who had once worked at the same office and had been Handoko's mistress. Hartono ignored the derisive sneers of the office, who thought he sold his self-respect for wealth and promotions when he married Atika. It was true that after they were married he was promoted at the office.

A week later, when Hartono entered Handoko's fully air- conditioned office, he felt as if he was burning in hell.

"How is it, Har? Have you thought it over? Have you got the answer? Have you discussed this with your wife?" Mr. Handoko's questions, rapidly asked one after another, left Hartono dazed and confused.

"Sorry, sir, I haven't discussed this with my wife. I ... I'm still confused," he stammered.

The middle-aged director could not hide his disappointment but he could quickly control himself.

"I see. This is a big problem for both of you," he said, lighting his cigarette and offering one to Hartono, who politely refused.

"It's like this, Har. I still love Atika. We lived together for over three years. I know I will never be able to find a woman as perfect as Atika. She is beautiful, gentle, understanding and intellectually satisfying. And one thing that I can never forget all my life is that although she looks innocent, she is, sorry, wild in bed."

Hartono could only curse in his heart.

"Unfortunately the timing was not right then. I was still controlled by my fussy, sharp-tongued and sulky wife. You must have heard that our married life is not harmonious. My wife is a fiercely stern lady, you know. I think now is the right time to divorce her and take Atika as my wife."

What a crazy world. Perhaps, everyone has gone mad, Hartono groaned in his heart.

"Again, I need your help this time, Har. Help me. My life will be meaningless without Atika. So, it means that the survival of this company and the fate of thousands of my employees depends on you alone, Har."

Oh, God, what an ordeal you have given me, Hartono again groaned in his heart.

"Come on, Har. Give me what I want. It's also for the sake of your future. You are still young. Aren't you interested in being a manager in one of my companies? Don't you want a nice life with a wife more beautiful than Atika? You can marry a virgin who can give you children."

Hartono wanted to slap Mr. Handoko, yet he was terribly shocked by the man's offer.

"Have no doubt about it, Atika will agree. She loves me, you know. She used to insist I should marry her," Mr. Handoko said, smiling victoriously. "So on Tuesday, two weeks from now, you must give me your decision."

When Hartono left the director's room, he felt as if his soul had left him.

Days passed with only increased gloom weighing down upon Hartono. He bore his sadness alone, and as the days passed the sadness turned into a great pang piercing deep into his very heart. Yet he never told any of this to his wife. He did not have the heart.

As the suffering became unbearable, he began to vomit throughout the day. His face was pale despite his forced smiles.

The night before the Tuesday when he had to see Mr. Handoko to tell him his decision was tortuous indeed. Ah, why does Mr. Handoko interfere with his life? When he married Atika, he was ready to bear the risk of the indecency of it. Now Mr. Handoko wanted him to divorce Atika. What a world.

Hartono tossed in bed all night, racking his brains to find a solution. He always ended with in the same place: A comfortable life as a manager, a more beautiful, virgin wife and children. Virgin, children. Virgin, children. Virgin ....

Hartono was half-asleep when his wife shook his thighs to wake him up.

"Mas, Mas Har. Wake up, Mas or you'll be late again."

Hartono stretched his body, still in bed. His head ached. He grinned, his fingers massaging his brow.

"Don't ever go to bed so late again, Mas. You must have a lot of problems. Be open to me, please."

Atika took her husband's hands and pulled him to get up. "I think I have found the reason why you have been restless and gloomy lately, Mas."

Hartono was startled. He became worried. Who the hell told Atika what had been haunting him night and day? Would she be angry? Would Atika agree to Mr. Handoko's offer? Hartono could no longer think properly. He was speechless.

Atika smiled when she saw her husband behave so awkwardly.

"Mas Har, you are craving something special," Atika said shyly.

"What? Craving for something special," Hartono said. He was surprised and confused.

"A husband can also crave something special when his wife is pregnant. So, your stomach trouble that has made you vomit is not really a stomach ache," Atika said, smiling broadly.

"It means .... "

"Yes. The lab results were positive. I'm pregnant. God has heard our prayers. We are going to have a child."

Hartono could not believe his ears. A wonderful feeling crept into his heart. He felt like crying, laughing, shouting; but this feeling was mixed with a deep pain.

"Atika, my dear wife, listen to me," he said, haltingly, "even if it is true that I have been craving something special because of your pregnancy, I'm in real trouble. I have a huge problem; one that has to do with the survival of our marriage."

Now it was Atika's turn to be speechless. For a brief moment she felt the approach of the shadow which had been following her all this time. The shadow of her dark past. Her indelible dark past was going to cause something bitter and painful to come true.

Her feminine instinct got the better of her and she could not help sobbing.

"Sometimes I think you married me because you were forced to do so. At times I think you never really loved me."

"No, not that," Hartono cut short his wife's words. "Atika, you must know that I began to love you when we were in secondary school together. I'm sure you also felt something, although I never told you that I loved you. You know I had an inferiority complex, then. You remember all this, don't you?

"You don't need to know the problem, because it has lost its significance now," Hartono said in a serious tone. "Answer me, Atika, would you still want to be with me if we were poor?"

"Do you still doubt my faithfulness to you?"

Atika's answer sounded nice in Hartono's ears. The dark cloud enveloping his heart had begun to disperse. He took his wife close to him and softly whispered in her ear.

"I promise to be a good husband and a good father. I will have you as my wife, come hell or high water. Whatever happens I will stand by you."

Atika could not really understand what her husband whispered in her ear, but she was happy. She was very happy indeed.

Glossary:

Mas: literally means elder brother. In this case it is a respectful way for a wife to address her husband.

-- Translated by Lie Hua