I woke up at exactly four in the afternoon. Apparently, the exhaustion had been enough to make me sleep soundly.
I hurried out of the room, suddenly feeling embarrassed because I had slept for quite a long time.
The house was very quiet. No one was around as I made my way from room to room. Maybe Auntie was still at the mosque. Unsure what to do, I felt uncomfortable just sitting around. After looking left and right, I spotted some dirty dishes, and my hands immediately got to work cleaning them.
Then my eyes fell on a pile of freshly washed clothes. I quickly hung them up on the clothesline. After that, I moved on to cleaning the floors, sweeping and mopping them.
Not long afterward, I heard the door open. Auntie Sum had come home. “Oh, you’re awake already? I was going to wake you, but I felt bad disturbing you. You were sleeping so soundly.” The woman opened a room, which was probably hers. She set down her prayer garment, then stepped out and closed the door.
“Were you at the mosque, Auntie?” I asked, making small talk. I already knew the answer would be yes.
“Yes, I just got back from the Asr prayer at the mosque. They usually have a religious study session after Asr.” My mouth formed an O as I nodded in agreement.
It seemed the master of this house gave the workers the freedom to do as they pleased. I could tell from how relaxed Auntie Sum was. She didn’t seem awkward at all, unlike most domestic workers I had met.
“Have you been working here long, Auntie?”
“Yes, a long time. Since I was still a girl, back when the Young Master’s Grandma Uti was still healthy, and I’m still here to this day. As it happens, Auntie was never blessed with children, so I devoted myself to serving here. My husband also works here as a driver.” I merely nodded as I listened to her explanation.
I felt as though I had entered a new life. The bitterness still lingered, but Auntie Sum’s and Mr. Ali’s presence comforted me more than a little. Little by little, they eased my pain.
“Auntie, I’d like to apply for a job here. Would that be okay?” I asked, making Auntie Sum turn to look at me.
“What kind of work do you want to do, dear Ayu? You really want to become a domestic helper?” Even while talking, the woman’s hands remained nimble as she finished the work in front of her.
“It’s okay. I can do this while I wait for another job.” Auntie Sum fell silent, as if thinking deeply.
“Hmm, all right. Ask Master when he gets home. Master’s a good man.”
Even though I hadn’t officially started working here, I always helped Auntie Sum finish her chores. Sometimes, all she had left to do was cook. I handled the laundry, the cleaning—everything.
Suddenly, I thought of Bima, the man I had stood by for eleven years. I wondered how he was doing now. Did he still remember me? Or was he actually happy that I was gone?
I took the cell phone from the nightstand drawer and typed a message to my older sister. “Miss, I’m okay. How’s Bima? Is he healthy?”
Then I left the phone lying on the bed. Silence filled the room, since my sister’s was the only number saved on it.
Memory after memory took shape, like puzzle pieces coming together again to form a chain of events. Suddenly, a tightness rose in my chest, and tears streamed down my face. Whenever I remembered how worthless I had been in the eyes of the man I called my husband, the pain was unbearable. Eleven years was not a short time to build a marriage. And yet I had failed as a wife.
~flashback~
From the very beginning, it had never been clear what my marriage was founded on. Was it a marriage without love? I didn’t think so. At the time, my heart had simply been too afraid that he would leave me. That was why I turned down several men who proposed to me without a second thought.
Even though I knew how hot-tempered and rough he was. He was extremely materialistic, too. But for some reason, my heart couldn’t bear to see him looking miserable. So I would do anything to see a smile curve across his stern face.
The days became months, and the months became years, but his personality stayed the same. Nothing changed. I often begged him, but all I received was anger, and his behavior only made this wound gape wider. Now I had reached the point of exhaustion. I was tired of trying to save everything between us.
I had done everything I could, standing beside him from the very beginning. I kept moving forward and trying so we could find a much better life. But it turned out I was limping along alone.
Our finances collapsed after someone conned us out of hundreds of millions of rupiah. Someone once said it might be because I didn’t give enough to charity. I wanted to shut her mouth with duct tape. Didn’t she remember that whenever he faced any hardship, I was always the one on the front line, caring for and protecting him? It was enough to simply not say things that hurt about what had happened to my family. No one wanted any of it to happen.
After our finances collapsed, I was left limping along alone. I tried to recover financially amid ridicule and condemnation. The money we lost hadn’t even belonged entirely to us. But somehow, I was still the one blamed. Especially in front of my own husband and his family. It was all supposedly the result of my mistake.
I once asked for a separation because I was afraid he would go on like that forever, always making me the scapegoat for every hardship in our marriage. In the end, perhaps it was the only way. So that man could be free of the heavy burden I carried on my shoulders.
But Bima refused. He promised he would change because he couldn’t bear to lose me. He said he might kill himself if he had to live without me.
Liar!
In reality, nothing about him changed. Now the hundreds of millions of rupiah in debt had been placed entirely on my shoulders. Meanwhile, he took all of my earnings. I was like a thief in my own home. Sometimes I felt like a beggar, with no dignity at all. Every time I asked for money, all I received was his anger. I was utterly miserable.
Finally, I decided to run away from home, taking every burden weighing on my shoulders with me.